


Keep your soul (like a secret in your throat)

by manesalex



Series: Keep your soul [1]
Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Anxiety, Assault, Bigotry, Blackmail, Blood and Gore, Canon Disability Removal, Canon Disabled Character, Canonical Character Death, Characters are unreliable narrators, Dementia, Depression, F/F, F/M, Horror, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Animal Death, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Forced Pregnancy, Implied/Referenced Torture, Imprisonment, M/M, Minor Character Death, Possible Character Death, Self-Harm (in a vamp-y way), Vampire Rewrite, Violence, implied/referenced animal cruelty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2020-11-23 20:34:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 33,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20895707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manesalex/pseuds/manesalex
Summary: Liz returns to Roswell to investigate Rosa's disappearance and figure out how vampires are involved. Aka, a vampire rewrite of Season 1.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you as always to my amazing beta and friend, [InsidiousIntent](https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsidiousIntent/pseuds/InsidiousIntent). Thanks as well to my wonderful friend, Beka, who gushed to me about this exactly when my own insecurity had me thisclose to deleting everything.
> 
> Title shamelessly stolen from My Chemical Romance. Because who better to help with a title for a vampire fic?
> 
> Vampire stuff stolen from pretty much every vampire book, movie, or tv show I've read/watched.
> 
> I don't think this is nearly as dark as the tags would suggest, but, hey, anything that might be a trigger... Please let me know if I need to add to them!

It’s been a long enough day and Liz is exhausted. All day at the lab on her feet. Trying new things, trying to solve an especially irritating problem. And all the concerns about losing funding. Research funding is down and her research right now involves fetal tissue, so… It’s not looking good with the current occupant of the White House.

She sighs, struggling with the keys, finally getting the lock to turn after she pulls the doorknob toward herself. This lock has always been irritatingly tricky, but the apartment is in her price range and close to work, so she’s let it slide.

She drops her purse on the table next to the door, along with her keys, toeing off her boots as best she can, too tired to even bother unzipping them. She’s considering just collapsing in bed, makeup on (and she wants to rant about the world where it’s expected that she’ll wear makeup in a lab). Skipping dinner altogether. That probably wouldn’t be wise. She worked through lunch and her stomach is already complaining. But she also knows she doesn’t have anything in the fridge and she really can’t afford another night of delivery from the closest restaurant. They know her order by heart as it is, which would be a good thing if she had the extra money to spend.

Instead, she trudges to the kitchen and looks through the cupboards, trying to find something easy and fast.

Dry cereal it is. She’s well aware her milk is expired and, really, this is the fastest thing she has. She’ll find some better options this weekend. Maybe cook something good and leave the leftovers in the fridge. At least that’s what she tells herself every time until she inevitably spends another entire weekend trying to crack the latest test results and figure out how exactly to fix what’s wrong now.

She pours the cereal in a bowl, putting the box away before leaning down to dig for a spoon.

When she finally looks up, the spoon and the bowl fall from her hands in an instant, ceramic shattering on the floor.

Rosa is standing there. Right next to her. Looking at her. Eyes empty and clouded over, skin sloughing off and decayed, mottled, her hair lank and dark, on either side of her once beautiful face.

Her mouth opens, moves, no sound coming out. Just a mindless open and close.

Liz stumbles backwards, slamming into the fridge with her back, staring at the apparition in front of her.

She’s tried so hard to forget what her sister had done. Spent the last ten years running from it, from the questions that will never be answered, from all the anger and pain tied to her sister’s choices. She thought she had succeeded, living many states away with a successful career. Burying herself in her work.

Clearly, this has to be a hallucination. Her mind is playing tricks on her. The ten year anniversary is approaching quickly.

Her sister can’t be a ghost.

It’s not that they don’t exist. She knows they do. But she can’t… Rosa can’t be one. That would mean she's dead and gone and they didn't-

She closes her eyes, desperately trying to shut away the sight in front of her, counting to ten, praying to the god she no longer believes in that her sister will be gone when she opens her eyes.

And, when she does, there’s no one in the kitchen but herself. But the bowl is still on the floor, cereal all around it, blue pieces of ceramic spread in wide, concentric circles outwards, spoon laying still in the wreckage.

* * *

It happens again the next night. This time, she’s eaten dinner and thinks it’s finally okay. That was just a hallucination. Yes. Stress and exhaustion. She just needs a break, that’s all.

She’s toweling her hair dry, stepping out of the bathroom, turning the corner toward her bedroom.

She looks up and her sister is there again. In the same clothes she was wearing the day she left, now dirty, torn, and yellowed with age, her mouth opening and closing, like she’s trying to form words. But no noise is escaping her mouth.

Liz stops for a moment, shakes her head, and walks right on past her. The best thing she can do is ignore this.

* * *

Everything is fine the next night. Well, funding was cut and she lost her job, but she has some leads for a new one. What really matters is that she doesn’t see Rosa at all. Just goes to bed, having eaten and showered, making plans to do some job hunting tomorrow.

* * *

She wakes up to the sun shining through the windows. She’s so used to being up well before dawn that she hadn’t even thought of that. She yawns, stretches, and sits up.

There, at the foot of the bed, is Rosa. The bright sunlight gives Liz a view of the maggots crawling through spaces where skin is missing. And it highlights the two puncture marks in her neck.

“Fuck,” Liz mutters under her breath. She has to go back to Roswell.

* * *

It’s late that night when she’s pulled over right on the outskirts of Roswell. At an ICE Checkpoint. She’s ready to ream out the cop who stopped her, in fact, is in the middle of a lecture about the Venzor-Castillo verdict, when she finally looks at him.

_Max Evans_. Everything around her seems to stop. He’s just as attractive as she remembers. No, better. Filled out, boyish features turned harder, older, scruff covering his handsome face.

She is completely shocked it’s him, barely able to hold onto a conversation until Sheriff Valenti, Kyle’s _mom_, not his dad, sends her on her way, reminding her that the high school reunion is coming up. And she’s home just in time for it. As if Liz wants to spend any more time with the kids who blamed her entire family for what her sister had done.

Or what everyone thought her sister had done. Now she’s not so certain. First, she needs to see a couple of autopsies. And see if that life she ran away from ten years ago is rearing its ugly head again.

* * *

The Crashdown is crowded, the town crackpot talking about aliens, in his usual booth. He has no idea. She spends a couple of minutes screwing with him until she sees her dad. She leaps to her feet, “_Papá”_ escaping her mouth, flying into his arms.

He looks a bit older. More grey hair. And absolutely more tired. But his hugs are exactly the same. “Our little genius!”

When he lets her go, he starts to ask her all about her life in Denver, everything she hasn’t told him on her infrequent phone calls. Or during his occasional holiday visits. She reminds him that she thinks he should move to a sanctuary state. Maybe California. She has some good leads there and they could both be happier. But she knows before he answers that it’s a no. He loves it in Roswell, even if it’s a town where everyone blames her sister for two girls’ deaths. And blames him for it too. She may not get why he loves it here, but she knows he does.

* * *

Liz is closing up that night, having insisted that she could, that she should. It has given her time to create and perfect a plan of attack for the morning. To find out who is still in town and who works where now. To figure out which former high school friends she can press for which details. She’s trying to decide whether to try to get the police report from Max or autopsies from Kyle when the final order comes up. “Men in Blackened salmon with Scully sweet potato fries with extra flying sauce to go!” she calls, handing it to the man patiently waiting for his very late dinner.

And then she closes and locks the door, turning to the jukebox. She runs her hand over the top fondly, remembering the many times she and Rosa would dance through clean up while listening to the music. She finds her choice by touch alone, the buttons as worn down as ever from her and Rosa’s overuse.

And, as Mrs. Potter’s Lullaby starts, Liz begins to dance through the restaurant, grabbing ketchup bottles to marry, cleaning up things that have been missed, trying to put everything in its proper place as she swings about.

She’s adjusting the uniform, uncomfortable, itchy fabric bugging her as much as ever, and turning toward the door when she sees him and nearly jumps.

Max Evans is standing at her door.

* * *

“Your left front running light was out,” Max tells Liz as soon as she opens the door. “That’s why I pulled you over. Just…wanted you to know. So you can get it fixed.”

“Thank you,” Liz replies quickly. “I’m sorry about assuming you- Little Green Man Shake?” she offers. "It's the least I can do."

“You remembered,” he answers with a smile. He always had that same order as a teen and is touched she still knows it now.

She shrugs, “My superpower.”

“I’m not one of the bad guys, you know.” Max explains, sitting down in front of her. He needs her to know that. “But, yeah, Immigration wants results. Crime is up and they’re blaming the undocumented.”

“I thought you were going to be a writer,” Liz says quickly, working on his shake. She’s humming a bit, just a little offkey, so quiet she probably doesn’t realize he can hear her.

Max is certain that Liz looks even more beautiful than she did when they were kids, but he’s quickly learning that this new Liz has walls that she didn’t have as a teen.

“I ended up staying. Isobel and Michael won’t leave. And I couldn’t leave them. They need me,” he tried to explain as much as he could without telling her why he stayed. Why he really stayed. “I never got to tell you how sorry I am,” he starts. He can’t tell her what he suspects happened, he knows that, but he still needs her to know that he is sorry for everything she has gone through since that night.

“It was a long time ago,” she brushes him off, walking in front of the counter to finish all the straightening up.

He sips at his milkshake, before saying, “Your dad said you were studying Biology. And Medicine.”

“Biomedical Engineering,” she says. He's relieved to see her smile has returned, “We were really onto something. A new type of regenerative medicine. But some asshole had to build a wall.”.

“So now you’re home?”

“Until I find something new, yeah,” she shrugs. And the full force of her attention is on him.

“If you had the funding to study anything, what would it be?” Max asks her, delighting in the way her eyes light up and her smile grows.

Her mouth opens to answer when, suddenly, he hears shots. Max throws the milkshake to the side, tackling Liz.

But it’s too late. He knows it before he looks. He can smell it. The thick metallic scent filling the air. Too much.

She’s so still beneath him. And he doesn’t even think.

Max tears at his right wrist with his teeth, pressing it to her lips, just praying his blood will enter her system fast enough to save her.

And he lets out a sigh of relief when she comes too with a gasp, barely thinking to smash a ketchup bottle and pour it all over her uniform.

“What was-”

“Just ketchup!” he answers, maybe a bit too quickly. And then takes a breath, “Someone shot out the windows, but I think they only hit a ketchup bottle. Are you okay?”

Her eyes are distant for a moment, until she speaks, “Yeah, I’m okay.”

He wants to check again to make sure, though he knows that his blood healed all her injuries. “I’ve got to go!” he forces himself to his feet, stumbling away from her, too aware of the metallic scent surrounding her.

He reaches out for Isobel as he runs out the door in pursuit of the shooter, already desperately craving blood.

* * *

Liz is too fine. No pain from hitting the unforgiving floor hard, Max on top of her. And there’s no way that’s ketchup. Not with the coppery taste of blood in her mouth. No, Liz knows too well what must have happened.

She can hear her dad calling down the stairs, “_Mija_! What happened! Are you-?”

“I’m fine, _Papá_!” she shouts back instantly, pressing her hands into the sticky, wet substance on the floor as she pushes herself to her feet.

She gave him a milkshake. She remembers that much. Goes rushing toward the kitchen, searching for a fresh plastic bag, wiping her hands off on her already ruined uniform as she skids across the tiles.

Of course, it has to be sitting on top of the highest shelf. Liz grabs the stool, presses one knee against the counter, listening for her father on the stairs or sirens outside, praying they don’t interrupt her. She lifts up, barely brushing the ziplock box with her fingertips, knocking it onto the counter.

And then she’s scrambling down, almost tripping and falling in her haste, running over toward where they had been standing.

Green milkshake is all over the counter, but no straw in sight. She scrambles around it, looking desperately for that tiny piece of evidence.

There, at the very edge of the floor, pressed up against the counter, is a white straw. She can hear her father’s footsteps on the stairs, and the sirens heading toward the restaurant.

Liz reaches down, carefully picking it up with the bag, sliding it into the sterile-as-can-be plastic and zipping it closed. She looks around desperately for a place to hide it, finally running around the counter again, sliding it in Rosa’s favorite little hiding spot next to the jukebox, inching some paneling out of place and then sliding it back once the straw is tucked safely out of sight.

By the time Sheriff Valenti is walking in and her dad is down the stairs, Liz is already working on cleaning up the ketchup and glass shards, faking as normal as she can.

* * *

Max walks into the Sheriff’s department the next morning to learn that they have his brother, Michael picked up again. Drunk and disorderly. All he can do is sigh. They’re beyond lucky Michael hasn’t drawn more attention to them. And he’s only evading notice because of Max, burying anything suspicious, smoothing things over when he can.

“Morning, Maxwell!” Michael calls, cocky grin in place when Max enters the room and closes the door behind him quickly.

Michael is sliding the cell door open, stepping out.

“There are cameras, Michael!” Max barely stops himself from shouting.

“Someone mysteriously shut them off,” his brother shrugs. “Right after they forgot to lock me in.”

“You know we can get you released the right way.”

“I waited for you, didn’t I?”

Before Max can answer, Isobel storms in, “I had to go home and try to explain why I ran off in the middle of date night and now I have at least ten different fires to put out at work, so you better explain what happened last night!”

Michael looks almost delighted to not be the one causing trouble. He turns to Max, “What did you do?”

Max tells them everything. He won't lie to them about this. Not when he's aware it can put them in danger. “Liz was shot, I had to.”

“You gave her your blood?” Isobel looks like she’s considering murder already. “What happened to us keeping the secret? I've been married for five years and I still keep it from Noah, but you risk our safety on a high school crush?"

“She was dying!”

“So you pray, you do CPR, you don’t decide to be a hero,” Michael replies instantly.

Max turns toward him, instantly on the offensive, “What would you know? You’ve never done anything for anyone.”

Michael looks like he’s been punched. By someone far stronger than the usual humans he gets in fist fights with at The Wild Pony.

“Wait, Michael-” he tries to stop his brother, well aware of what he’s given up for both of them.

But Michael is already headed out the door.

* * *

The day has already been exhausting and now Foster Ranch is crawling with the Air Force. Michael is shoving the door of his truck open, already storming toward his trailer when he sees Jesse Manes. Of course. That motherfucker. His left hand tenses up, pain shooting through it again at the memory of what the man had done to it ten years ago.

But he has more important things to worry about currently. Like the man standing at his door, peering in the window.

Did he close the fridge properly? Are there any empty blood bags out and visible? He’s well aware of what this man could see and he has to stop him immediately. Before he finds something that Michael can’t explain away.

He grabs the man’s arm, spinning him away, “Hey! That’s private property!”

It’s only then that he clocks the cane, instantly followed by the face of the man who is stumbling backward, trying to right himself.

Michael reaches forward by instinct, grabbing the fabric of his uniform and his arm again, pulling him upright, making sure he’s stable. “_Alex_.” He keeps his hands there by sheer force of habit. Or maybe like a magnet is pulling him to the other man. One hand just touching his arm, the other moving over his heart, feeling that strong steady beat beneath his fingertips. Alex is here. Alex is alive. He’s made it home.

He’s filled out since the last time Michael saw him, shoulders broad, arms strong. He looks so damn _good_. “Guerin,” that oh-so-familiar voice replies.

_Guerin_. Of course. Michael drops both of his hands from Alex and steps backwards, trying desperately to build that wall between them back up, even though he knows he’ll always want to let Alex in. “Finally a Manes man, huh?” He can’t really blame Alex for choosing his family. It’s not like Michael hasn’t made that same choice every single day of his life. He had just wished Alex would choose to be his family instead.

“Three quarters of one,” Alex replies, reaching down and knocking on the prosthetic Michael had already heard was there.

He flinches anyway, Max’s words rising up again in his mind, unbidden. _You’ve never done anything for anyone_. And it’s true. He’d known when Alex- rumors travel fast in a small town. Even faster when one of the people he went to high school with nearly died halfway around the world in a war he had never wanted to fight in the first place. He could have gone to him, could have healed him without any real effort. He would have if it hadn’t been for the knowledge that, if he did, there was no way he’d be able to hide what he is from the entire force of the US military. The knowledge that he’d be torn apart was nothing. Especially in those terrifying days when he didn’t know whether Alex would survive at all.

It was the thought of what they’d do to Isobel and to Max that kept him from running right to Alex’s side.

He should have found a way anyway.

“What are you doing here? Doesn’t look legal,” Alex says.

Michael looks back up at him, trying to force that defensive humor. “Little bit of weed, lots of casual sex, and ritual sacrifice,” he jokes. He knows what people have been saying about him since he was a teen.

Alex just rolls his eyes at that.

“See you around, Alex,” Michael opens the door to his Airstream and steps inside, shutting it behind him instantly.

The place is clear of blood bags, thankfully. He is desperate to dig into the fridge, have something to distract him from the man standing outside. But he knows better.

He’ll wait until they’re all gone.

* * *

Liz is just about to sneak into the lab at the hospital to examine the straw with Max’s DNA on it, when she practically runs into Kyle Valenti.

“Liz!” he cries, a smile lighting up his face. “My mom said you were in town, but I have to say, I didn’t think I’d see you so soon.” And then, a pause, his face falling, “Is everything okay?”

“Not really,” she admits.

“Okay, come with me,” he instantly guides her toward an empty exam room and closes the door behind them. “What’s going on?”

So Liz starts to explain an abbreviated version of it. As difficult as Kyle had been in front of a crowd in high school, as much as his behavior was toxic and gross when he was being observed, he had been a great listener when they were together. And before that, when they were just friends. That hasn’t changed.

“So,” she finishes. “I guess I’m trying to resolve things for myself. Maybe get some answers? You don’t… Do you think you could get your hands on Kate and Jasmine’s autopsies? I know that’s unethical, but… I just think that if I could see the science, it would clear things up for me. I need to…” she pauses, taking a shaky breath. “I need to find a way to accept that Rosa… That she sold them the drugs that killed them.”

“If you think it will help, I’ll see what I can do,” he answers. “But you do know grief isn’t logical, right? And that’s what you’re dealing with here. Rosa may not be dead, but you’re still grieving the sister you knew.”

Liz nods, remembering what her father told her about Jim Valenti, “I’m sorry about your dad, Kyle.”

His face clouds over with grief.

“How are you doing? With all of it?”

He sighs, leaning back against the wall, “I have a lot of regrets. My dad wasn’t perfect, but… I’m trying to be the kind of man he’d want me to be.”

“He’d be proud of you, Kyle,” she tells him easily. And he would be. She can remember the kind of man Sheriff Jim Valenti had been. The way he looked after all of them like they were his own. How he’d make sure Rosa and Maria got home safe, even when they were high off their asses or Rosa was wasted. The way he kept a close eye on Alex, who was rarely causing trouble, but so often the target of bullying, even from Kyle himself. She remembered how he got coffee from The Crashdown every morning and asked about her and Rosa, how things were going in school. He would be so proud that his son is a doctor, dedicating his life to helping other people.

She hops off the exam table she had perched on during their conversation and pulls Kyle into a hug, “I better go, but I’ll see you later, okay?” She has a straw to examine and other people to see.

* * *

Liz strolls into The Wild Pony, looking for Mimi Deluca, the woman who had taught her all about the things that go bump in the night, who had trained her to fight them, only to find her daughter and Liz’s high school best friend, Maria, serving drinks at the bar instead.

“You know the tourists usually go to Saturn’s Rings, right?” Maria asks.

Liz laughs in response, “I guess I deserve that.”

“Well, yeah, you don’t text, you don’t call… You don’t even get an Instagram or _Facebook_. I thought you had forgotten about all the little people here while you were off being some kind of genius.” It’s clear from her face that that’s not quite what Maria had thought, but Liz doesn’t push. It’s been ten years since she spoke to her once best friend. She doesn’t deserve to know.

“So, you’re running The Pony now? Where’s Mimi? Off exploring the country?” Liz asks with a teasing smile. But her face falls when Maria’s expression darkens.

“She’s not- doing well. She forgets things. And I think living in Roswell is getting to her because, I swear, she’s going on and on about aliens. Like they’re real and not just why this place is a tourist trap.”

Liz frowns, “I’m sorry. Is there anything I can-” she takes a breath, “I could see if some of my contacts know of some new treatment programs?”

Maria shakes her head, “We’ve seen all the doctors. None of them really have any answers. They can’t help her.”

Liz watches as Maria straightens up and plasters a smile onto her face, “Anyway, enough about me. You are going to tell me about your love life while I give you free drinks. And then we are going to that stupid reunion.”

“Everyone there is still so angry…”

“Elizabeth Ortecho, we are going to get drunk off our hot asses and we’re going to have fun ignoring all those entitled pricks.”

Liz finally laughs, “Okay. Deal.”

* * *

Alex puts all of his weight on his left leg as he adjusts his prosthetic. Coming to the reunion was a bad idea. Everyone wants him to be the hero. The Manes man. To play the part that he is so tired of, the part he has been tired of since he enlisted. Some days, he’d give anything to give it up. Almost anything.

And then there was Guerin, parading around the reunion with a girl on his arm. Ashley, he thinks. She had been a cheerleader in high school. And a reminder of why he put himself through this in the first place. So Guerin can have a normal life.

He can still remember the day after Rosa’s disappearance, before Alex had even heard the news. He had been trying to sleep, covered in bruises from what his dad had done to him and so very worried about Michael. And his dad threw his bedroom door open, dropped a file on his bed, and left.

Michael Guerin’s juvenile record. A list of the petty crimes he had committed. And, with it, who knows how his father had gotten it, a report of suspicions and concerns from the foster families he had stayed with over the years. Alex knew in his bones that they weren’t true. The boy who looked at him like he had given him the world, the boy who had put his body between him and his father, that boy couldn’t have done those things.

But it was still a laundry list of ways his father could go after Michael. A list of excuses and lies he could tell to destroy his life, his future, maybe even get rid of him entirely. All topped off with the obvious implication. His disappearance wouldn’t go noticed or remarked upon.

And, of course, his father had left an Air Force application with it. That’s why Alex had signed up. Do what his father wants, stay away from Michael, and he won’t be the reason he dies.

Alex winces as he adjusts his prosthetic a bit more. It’s chafing a bit and he just wants to get home and get it off. But everyone wants to shake the hand of the hometown hero. Talk about how they knew him way back when. Not about how they shoved him into lockers and called him names.

He looks up at the picture projected on the wall in front of him. And he’s confronted by his own photograph from high school. Ten years younger and on a skateboard. He was so free back then. So innocent. Convinced his future was his own. All he had to do was last until he was eighteen and he could be out of Roswell. Off to a better life, away from his father. He thought he could follow his dreams.

“Nostalgia’s a bitch, huh?” a familiar voice interrupts him. Guerin. 

“I thought for sure when I got back from Iraq, you’d be long gone,” Alex says softly, straightening up and putting his right leg back on the floor, trying not to lean on his cane. He had hoped Michael would be far away. Somewhere safe. That he’d be happy. He’d hoped he’d sacrificed everything for that. But sacrificing all of it to keep Michael alive is still more than worth it.

“Is that what you want?” Michael asks him, sounding almost hopeful.

Alex wonders what it is that _he_ wants. But he focuses on telling Michael the truth, as well as he can. “We’re not kids anymore. What I want doesn’t matter.” If he could have what he wants… He never would have left Michael behind.

Michael has been moving closer to him the whole time. And now Alex can finally take him in like he’s wanted to since this morning.

His fingers ache to bury themselves in those messy curls. He wants to drown himself in those whiskey-colored eyes. He wants those full lips against his own, those strong arms around him-

And, like he’s reading his mind, Michael surges forward, pressing his lips against Alex’s.

The scruff is new, that scrape against his skin that he can already imagine elsewhere. And his kisses are harder, more desperate.

Alex matches that desperation, wrapping an arm around him and sliding it along Michael’s lower back, tugging him closer as Michael leans further into him.

He’s surrounded by Michael, breathing him, tasting him, touching him. And it’s everything he’s wanted for ten years. No, for his entire life. It’s like coming home.

His vision darkens a bit and he sees spots when Michael pulls away, just enough to let him catch his breath.

Alex closes his eyes, feeling Michael pressing his forehead against his own, rough hands tracing along his jaw, making him feel like something precious.

But he’s coming back down to earth now. Remembering why he can’t have this. What will happen to Michael if he tries.

So, when Michael asks him to come home with him, he answers truthfully, “I can’t.”

When he sees Michael’s face fall, Alex wants nothing more than to apologize, to tell Michael the truth, how much he wants him, how he’d give almost anything to have anything at all with him. But he doesn’t. He just forces himself to turn around and slowly walk away.

* * *

The reunion is going perfectly. Or as well as can be expected, given that her class had been full of drunken idiots when they were in high school.

Isobel surveys the crowd, catching a glimpse of Alex sneaking back in, looking more rumpled than he has since he’s been back. Clearly, Michael is to blame for that. But at least she knows that _he_ knows how to be careful and discreet. About their shared secret, anyway.

Max is just standing on the outskirts of the party, staring at Liz Ortecho and Maria Deluca as they dance. She curses the longing she feels as she watches. Some part of her still wishes for another life. The one she didn’t choose. One where she’d be able to relax and have fun. To be herself. One where she wouldn’t need to think about being _on_ twenty-four hours a day. But she chose the life that allowed her to remain safe. To keep their secret hidden.

Isobel shakes her head and returns her attention to her brother, making her way over to him. “You can’t tell her.”

“She deserves the truth, Isobel,” Max replies.

“Maybe. But that doesn’t mean we can trust her with it.” Isobel has kept track of her. She knows what she has been up to in the years since she’s been away. “Regenerative medicine, Max? What do you think she’d do if she knew what we are? What do you think she’d do with three people whose blood can literally heal people?”

Max is silent at her side and Isobel knows better than to believe he’s listening. He never really does. She loves Max and is well aware that he will do what he wants, what he thinks is best, regardless of what his choice ends up doing to her and Michael.

* * *

Liz is dancing wildly with Maria, both of them just having fun. It’s the first time in a long time that Liz has allowed herself to be _free_. Without thinking about obligations or expectations. She missed this.

So, when she happens to glance over at Max and Isobel, she feels like a bucket of ice water has just been poured over her head.

They’re just standing there, surveying the crowd. But, just between them and slightly behind them, looking exactly the same as she had in Liz’s apartment mere days ago, stands Rosa Ortecho.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More people learn Max, Isobel, and Michael's secret and they deal with the fallout.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you as always to my amazing beta and friend, [InsidiousIntent](https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsidiousIntent/pseuds/InsidiousIntent). Thanks as well to my wonderful friend, Beka, for all of her support and encouragement with my first true multipart fic.
> 
> Title shamelessly stolen from My Chemical Romance. Because who better to help with a title for a vampire fic?
> 
> Vampire stuff stolen from pretty much every vampire book, movie, or tv show I've read/watched.
> 
> I don't think this is nearly as dark as the tags would suggest, but, hey, anything that might be a trigger... Please let me know if I need to add to them!

The reunion is finally over and the space has been cleaned, the supplies put away. It’s early in the morning, the sun just on the horizon, but Isobel is ready to go to sleep.

She opens the door to her home and steps inside, carefully removing her heels and stretching. She pads through the entryway toward the kitchen, pausing in the living room when she sees her fridge from her office sitting there in the center of the room, still plugged in.

Noah is slouched on the couch, looking half asleep, but jumping to his feet the moment she walks in. “With how busy you’ve been,” he starts, “I just wanted to make it easier for you. I was cleaning your office when I found this.” He seems to be waiting for an explanation.

Isobel is frozen, unsure what she could even say to explain the amount of blood she leaves in that fridge.

“Are you sick, Isobel?” he finally asks, “Is that what’s going on?”

She knows he knows better than to think that; he’s just grasping for anything that seems remotely normal. She supposes that’s better than the other assumptions he could have made about her.

Isobel is well aware she could lie to her husband. She could tell him she’s anemic and he’d buy it. Even if, subconsciously, he’d be aware of the lie. He’d believe it because he _wants_ to, just like he has believed so many lies she’s told him before. Or she could just compel him to forget what he’s found about her. But she’s never wanted to do that to him. She’s never done that to him. And today… She just can’t. She’s just so exhausted from everything. From the constant worrying, the lies, and the secrets.

“No. I’m not sick, Noah,” she answers finally. “Or, at least not conventionally.” She takes a deep breath. She never planned on telling him this. There’s only ever been one human in her life she wanted to share this with and she had run away from that as soon as she realized she couldn’t keep her secret and that relationship. “I’m a vampire,” she admits.

“You’re a- _what_?”

“Vampire, yes. Drink blood to survive. Vampire. But I don’t have an issue with sunlight, churches, or holy water. And you know I love garlic. Though I suppose that, if you drove a stake through my heart, I would die,” she rambles, spouting too many details to fill the silence.

“You… Do you kill people?”

“No, Noah. Absolutely not. That’s why I have those blood bags. So I can survive.”

He seems like he’s about to ask his next question. But it never leaves his mouth. He stills instead. And finally, “You didn’t trust me with it. We’ve been married for five years and you weren’t even going to tell me you’re not human!”

There’s nothing she can say in response to that. It’s true. She wasn’t.

“Did you ever want to?”

Again, she doesn’t respond. There’s no way she can answer that without hurting him further.

So she just stands still and waits for the next question.

* * *

Liz needs to see those police reports, but she knows going to the Sheriff’s department is not a good idea. Max works there. He doesn’t need to know her suspicions until she’s ready to share them. She already knows for certain that he’s a vampire. Now she just needs to know if vampires killed those girls. And how in the hell he’s managed to age in the time since they graduated high school. How the hell he’s managed to age at all.

Instead of the Sheriff’s office, she finds herself outside Alex’s, formerly Jim Valenti’s, cabin, knocking on the door.

She can hear the uneven steps as Alex moves closer, can hear him reach the door and open it. “Liz!” he greets her, a bright smile instantly lighting up his face. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I wanted to see you! It’s been forever and I missed you.”

“What do you want, Liz?” He knows her too well.

“I’m looking into what happened with Kate and Jessica? Do you think you could help me get an eye on the police report? And find out if there’s been anything else similar since then?”

“What do you mean by similar?” he asks. And his entire posture and mannerism shifts, the soldier replacing the boy she had once known.

“I… I think they may have had puncture marks? On their necks. Not from needles. Larger circumference.”

Alex shakes his head, “I can look for that file for you, but I can already tell you there hasn’t been anything like that in Roswell in the past ten years. No murders, no mysterious deaths. Nothing that would raise suspicions. Crime has actually gone down over the past few years. Including violent crime.”

Liz is absolutely certain Max had said… “I thought it went up?”

“Nah. A myth that’s helpful to those racist politicians. Just perceptions, not statistics. And a consequence of 24 hour news and the spread of news via the internet.”

Liz grins at that. Alex had always been so smart growing up, but in a way their teachers had never appreciated. Always questioning authority. She wondered how that mixed with his job in the Air Force. “I missed you, you know.”

He smiles at that. “Anything else you want to know?”

“How do you know all this? Without looking?”

His face clouds over and closes off again, “We all have things we can’t let go of, Liz.”

* * *

Kyle has finally gotten his hands on the autopsies and knows he needs to look at them before he shows them to Liz. He needs to be able to prepare her for what she’ll find. She may be a scientist, she may understand how addiction works, how death and decomp work, but knowing that and having her sister attached to it like this are very different things.

He takes his time, examining the notes before looking at the pictures. And freezing when he sees two large puncture wounds on each girls’ throat.

_“If you see the bite marks, go to Manes.”_

He had been certain that those were drunken ramblings from his father. Not something real. But that’s what these look like. Two puncture marks that look suspiciously like canine teeth.

He picks up his phone. The first person he needs to talk to is Liz. He promised her he’d look into it. And, if this means something, if it means Rosa had nothing to do with these girls’ deaths, she will want to know. He’d want to know the same, if he were in her place.

He’s lucky in that regard. His father had struggled with alcoholism, especially near the end of his life, but he had been a good man. He had dedicated his life to helping others. Kyle had that to cling to. He can’t imagine what Liz is dealing with, wondering where her sister is, believing that she left two girls to die.

So, yes, he needs to talk to Liz first.

* * *

Maria Deluca has never been so relieved to see Max Evans. She could have wound up with any of the other deputies who would probably dismiss her and tell her to come back later. None of them want the extra work. Max, well, he has always had a bit of a savior complex.

“What brings you in here today, Maria?” he asks her from his desk.

“I know it’s a bit early to file a Missing Persons, but my mom… Wandered off.”

Max just nods. It’s common knowledge around town that her mom is harmless, but often confused.

“Could you just let everyone know to let me know if they see her?”

“Of course,” Max replies instantly. He is silent for a moment, as if he’s trying to gather his words, before saying, “Have you ever thought about maybe getting her put into a facility somewhere? Maybe it would be safer for her?”

Maria wants to tell Max it’s none of his business. Wants to tell him that _of course_ she’s thought about that. She worries about her mother’s safety every day. And she can’t afford to hire someone to watch her. But she also worries about her mother’s decline. And the fact that she is _better_, _more coherent_ when she’s home. When she can see the sign for The Wild Pony, it’s like it brings her back to herself. Just a little bit. And it makes her feel _safe._ Maria has considered all of the options. She’s thought about her mother, confused in a place she doesn’t know and surrounded by people she doesn’t know. She doesn’t know if she can do that to her. She doesn’t know if it’s the right thing for her. Or if the right thing is to keep her at home and try to _manage_ all of this. She doesn’t know how to be her mother’s guardian, even though that’s what she’s become.

She wants to tell him about the doctors they’ve seen. About how none of those old white men have any answers. She’s tried every spell she can think of to help pull her mother out of this to no avail. Of course, she also wonders if that has made it worse. Or if she would have actually succeeded if she hadn’t brushed her mother off almost every single time she tried to teach Maria to use her gift.

Instead, Maria answers, “We’re looking over all our options. Thanks Max.” She knows his intentions are good, even if he really doesn’t _get_ it.

“Any time,” he replies.

And she heads out the door and back to the street, hoping to spot her mother on her way back to The Wild Pony. Back to pouring drinks for people who probably make racist remarks about her behind her back all the time. And people who sometimes say those things to her face.

* * *

“Did you find something?” Liz asks the instant she makes it through the door into Kyle’s office.

“Yeah,” he says. “The tox results do support the idea of a drug overdose. But… I’ve never seen this exact drug before. It’s close to a benzodiazepine, but… It’s just a bit off. Maybe mixed with something else. Something I don’t recognize. I don’t know how Rosa would have gotten it,” he says, opening Kate Long’s file to show Liz.

Liz’s head is bent over the paper, “Yeah, this doesn’t match any well known prescription variations. Do you mind if I…?” she gestures with her phone.

“I’m not even supposed to be showing this to you,” Kyle replies.

“Right. Sorry.”

“There’s also the needle mark on each of their arms and… I don’t have to tell you that people don’t exactly inject Xanax. I don’t know if they had a history with these drugs in particular or if they did something else. Do you know what Rosa sold?”

Liz shakes her head. She had been so busy during that final year, trying to keep up with classes and train with Mimi and deal with vampires. And dating Kyle as well. Then dumping Kyle and heading toward starting something with Max, though that had gotten interrupted by all of this.

“Okay, but that’s not the weirdest thing,” Kyle says, seeming almost excited. Liz can relate to the excitement of having someone who you can discuss science with. Who you can talk about all the possibilities with. He turns the page and shows her a picture. A closeup of Kate’s neck. Of two puncture marks. Just the right size to be canines. “Both Kate and Jasmine had these markings on their neck. Jasmine’s were a little bit further apart. Which is weird, right? Because, if it was a weapon-”

“They’d be the same distance apart, yeah.”

Liz knows exactly what this means. There’s not just one vampire in Roswell. There were at least two in town on that horrible June night.

* * *

“Max and Michael are vampires too, right? That’s why you’re all so codependent?” Noah asks.

“Yes.” Isobel has no idea how long she’s been answering Noah’s questions. It feels like forever. Part of her just wants to sleep. The other part just wants to leave, to get away from this interrogation. But she understands she owes him at least this much after everything. After lying to him for five years.

“Is this why you’re not ready to have kids?” he asks.

And there it is. The biggest issue in their relationship up until now. Noah wants kids. Isobel isn’t opposed to the idea in theory. But she doesn’t know if she can have kids. If she can, would they be healthy and human like Noah? Or would they desperately crave blood like she does?

Then there are the worries about if they do crave blood. How could they control a hungry vampire toddler? How could they keep it safe from humans? How could she keep Noah safe from it?

“Yes,” she answers simply.

“Is that ever going to change? Are you ever going to want to have kids with me?”

“It’s not about _want_, Noah!” Isobel finally snaps. “It doesn’t matter if I _want_ kids. I don’t know if I can have them. And if having them would even be a good idea! I need to drink blood to survive!”

Noah steps backward, almost stumbling, “I’m sorry, I-”

“No, don’t apologize,” she forces herself to speak calmly. “It’s fair for you to ask. Do you have any other questions?”

He seems to consider for a moment before asking, “Was anything about our relationship real?”

* * *

Michael has been waiting at Max’s place for a while when he finally arrives. Isobel told him her concerns. That Max will tell Liz everything. They all know what could follow Max revealing their secret.

Liz is a scientist. A biomedical engineer. Exactly the kind of person who would pull them all apart to see how they worked. And he can’t say he’d blame her for wanting to figure out how their blood heals people. And maybe find a way to help more people. But the rest of it? The experimenting and dissecting, exposing them…

He may not be an alien, but growing up in Roswell, alien stories had always informed his greatest fears.

Max climbs out of his jeep and strides towards him, so Michael rises.

“I talked to Isobel. She said you’re thinking about telling Liz?”

“She’s not going to hurt us, Michael.”

“She’s a scientist, Max. I thought Isobel already went over this with you. And it’s worse than that. If she knows vampires exist… What if she takes a closer look at Kate and Jasmine’s deaths? What if she figures out Rosa wasn’t responsible? She’ll be coming after us. You can maybe handle what she’ll do to you, but what about what she’ll do to Isobel if she figures it out?”

“I want to tell her everything, Michael. It’s _Liz._” Max pauses. “Don’t you want to tell Alex Manes everything?”

Michael flinches and steps back. He wonders how long Max has known about them. And who else does. But he doesn’t ask. Just answers the question. “Alex’s father is in the Air Force. _Alex_ is in the Air Force now.” He doesn’t want to believe Alex would ever hurt him like that, but he’s well aware that it’s a possibility. And Alex made a promise when he entered the Air Force. Michael knows how seriously he takes his promises. How could he ask Alex to compromise himself?

“But have you ever wanted to tell him?”

“Of course not,” Michael lies. He hates lying, but his instinct is always to protect his weak spot. And he’s well aware that Alex is one hell of a weak spot for him. He wants to tell Alex everything. Wants Alex to want to _hear_ everything. But he knows better. And Max doesn’t need to know. “Liz can be just as dangerous to us as Alex could be.”

Max just shrugs. Michael is certain that he’ll ignore his advice, but there’s nothing else he can do. Now his only option is to try to prepare for the fallout.

“Oh, by the way,” Max says as Michael heads towards his truck. “Maria Deluca’s mom wandered off. If you see her…”

“Yeah. Got it,” he replies, getting in his truck and heading towards town.

He briefly considers leaving Roswell for good. But he knows he can’t leave Isobel to deal with it all alone. Not when she’ll inevitably try to stay for Max’s sake. Not when she doesn’t even know what really happened or what danger is headed her way. Not when she and Max are his family. The only family he has ever had. No, instead he’ll have to find a way to put himself between Isobel and the worst of it. All he can hope is that Alex doesn’t get involved. He doesn’t know how he’ll survive Alex thinking that he killed Kate and Jasmine. And maybe Rosa.

* * *

Isobel really should be sleeping, but she knows Noah needs his space after everything. So she goes the only place she can think of.

She walks in and makes her way carefully to the bar, perching on the stool, trying desperately to avoid touching anything too sticky.

The Wild Pony is nearly empty at this hour, so she’s not surprised when Maria Deluca walks straight over to her. “Chardonnay or Whiskey?” She has never seen Maria look so very guarded.

“I think I might have ruined my marriage,” Isobel says instead of answering, playing with the edge of her jacket with her fingertips.

Maria just nods and sets a glass in front of her before grabbing a bottle of Jack Daniels and giving her an extra-generous pour. “I’m sure Noah will forgive you,” she says after Isobel has thrown back her drink, making a face. She’s forgotten how strong whiskey tasted. Hasn’t had it in about ten years. Chardonnay has been her drink of choice since then, as Maria seems to have noticed.

“I don’t know if I want him to,” Isobel admits while Maria pours her another. “I just… Our entire relationship has been a lie.”

“Really? The perfect, pinterest marriage? A lie? I never would have guessed,” Maria replies, tone dripping with sarcasm.

“You don’t have to sound so happy about it,” Isobel snaps, finally able to push back against someone she knows can give as good as she gets.

“I’m not,” Maria’s tone is soft but honest and not at all what Isobel had expected. “I wanted you to be happy, Is. I hoped you were.”

“I was. I _thought_ I was. But,” Isobel sighs, swishing the glass around a bit, watching the way the warm amber color plays with the light. “It’s like, when I met Noah… I saw a way to be _normal_. And I wanted that. He’s kind, handsome, intelligent, successful. I knew we could have the perfect life. I wanted that life. But… I think I kind of lost myself along the way.”

“You’re Isobel Evans,” Maria responds. “The bitchiest girl in our high school.”

“Anything else?” Isobel asks, hopeful for something she knows she can never have again.

“You know what else,” Maria answers quietly after a moment, her eyes anywhere but on Isobel’s. “But you’re married,” her tone is almost aggressively normal. “So… Maybe a glass of Chardonnay?”

Isobel just nods, “Please.” And she pauses, taking in the circles under Maria’s eyes. “And then you can tell me what’s going on with you.”

* * *

Kyle takes a deep breath before knocking on the cabin door. This place used to be his father’s, but he knows it’s gone to Alex since his death and, well, Kyle knows Alex will never give up a chance to stay far away from Jesse Manes. There were so many little things about Alex that he hadn’t caught as a child, or a self-centered teenager, that he realized looking back as an adult, especially one with training on how to recognize abuse, were massive warning signs. The way Alex stayed completely covered up, black clothes, often long-sleeved even in the summer. The way the boy who had faced down the entire football team with nothing but confidence always shied away from his own father.

So Kyle is glad Alex has somewhere safe to stay. And, while his father had said to go to Manes if he saw those puncture marks, well… He may be absolutely certain he meant _Jesse_ Manes, but Kyle would rather see if _Alex_ can help him figure it out than give Jesse anything.

He can hear the sound of Alex’s cane hitting the wood as it gets closer to the door. And then it’s opening and he’s standing there, one eyebrow raised and, _fuck_, he had forgotten how much disdain Alex could communicate with a single look.

Might as well start with the reason for that, “I’m sorry for the way I behaved in high school. I was a homophobic jerk and… There’s really no excuse for it. I don’t even know why I behaved like that.”

Alex’s expression changes, weighing Kyle’s words for a moment before saying, “I’m gay. And you were afraid that, if you were nice to me, people would think you were gay too.” He opens the door more fully and Kyle recognizes it for the olive branch it is, “What did you really come here to talk about?”

Kyle leads the way into the cabin, laying the folders he swiped on the table, opening them. “My dad used to tell me that, if I saw these puncture marks, I should ‘go to Manes’. I know he meant your dad, but I know you’re not going to use anything I give you to hurt anyone.”

He’s surprised by the complicated journey he sees on Alex’s face, but less so when he speaks, “I was in an active war zone, Kyle. I hurt a lot of people. Most of whom didn’t deserve it.”

Kyle doesn’t know what to say to that, so he’s relieved when Alex turns his focus to the files and starts to read.

Less than a minute into reading it, he walks over to his desk, grabs a file full of printouts and hands it to Kyle, “I’m guessing Liz asked you to look into all of this?”

“How’d you know?”

“That’s what she asked me for.”

Kyle opens the file and starts reading through the police reports, all the information about the investigation into Kate and Jessica’s death as Alex returns his attention to the autopsies.

* * *

Maria hears her mom before she sees her, “I can see it very clearly. You two will work things out. If you put in the time and effort. And if you’re honest.”

“Don’t think that’s so likely.” She’s surprised to hear it followed by Michael’s drawl.

“No, I can see it,” Mimi continues. “That kind of love is rare. Cosmic. The universe wouldn’t let that go to waste, even if it does love to throw obstacles in your path.”

“Cosmic,” Michael repeats almost thoughtfully. She’s surprised to see the soft look on his face when he steps into sight. But it’s only a moment before it’s gone entirely, making her wonder if it ever existed at all. “Heard round town you were looking for her,” he says to Maria, dropping into a stool next to Isobel but gesturing at Mimi.

“Thank you, Guerin.”

“Do I get a reward?” the flirtatious look that she’s used to is back in place, though they both know he doesn’t mean anything by it. Maria enjoys flirting with Michael and knows he enjoys flirting back, but… Maria has obvious reasons why she’ll never go there. And Michael hasn’t really put any effort into pursuing her either.

“She’s not a lost puppy, Michael,” Isobel immediately inserts, smacking his arm lightly.

“So that’s a ‘no’?” he jokes.

Maria considers, “I’ll clear your tab if you also make sure Isobel gets home safe,” she says, turning to Isobel before adding, “To her husband.”

“Shit, Is, what did you do?” Michael teases, holding out an arm for the woman who is essentially his sister and guiding her carefully out of the bar as she stumbles in heels that look incredibly uncomfortable.

Once they’re gone, Maria turns her attention back to her mother. “I need you to stay at home while I’m at work, Mom.”

“You’re just upset because you still love her. She loves you too, you know,” Mimi says.

And that was the worst part of having a psychic witch as a mother. Her mother tended to pry far too much into her love life. “That doesn’t matter. She’s married.”

“Oh. But… She’s only 17. I’m going to have to have a talk with her parents!”

Maria sighs, carefully reminding her mom of the truth again, “She’s 27.”

“Oh. Right,” Mimi nods. “That’s right.”

Maria doesn’t know whether her mother is saying that because she actually remembers or because that’s the answer she thinks she is supposed to give. And she doesn’t really know what to do about it anymore.

* * *

Alex and Kyle have spent at least a few hours digging through the files in the bunker. Alex had found it shortly after he had moved in, but hadn’t been certain of his ability to navigate the ladder on his own and didn’t trust anyone to help him. Not when he knew what could be down there.

At least, he hadn’t trusted anyone to help him until Kyle showed up at his door. Considering it involved both of their fathers and all of it had belonged to Jim Valenti, well, he may not owe Kyle anything. But he definitely owed Jim for all the kindness he had shown him over the years. All the times he’d found excuses to keep Alex away from his father for longer, For giving him a safe place to stay.

So now Kyle is reading through the files while Alex digs further on his computer. And, every time he looks over, Kyle’s face has fallen a bit further. He can almost imagine what it feels like. Alex and his father had never particularly been close, but he had _wanted_ his father’s love. When he was younger, he had thought that maybe, just maybe, he could earn it. Until he realized that his father _hated_ him. For who he was. Who he _is_.

“Your father was a good man,” Alex says softly, finally.

“If all of this is true, my father participated in a program to hunt people down because he suspected they were _vampires_. And how in the hell are we even talking about vampires like they’re a possibility?”

“If your father was involved, he did it because he thought these people were dangerous. Because he thought he was protecting people.” Alex frowns, turning away from his laptop entirely and focusing on Kyle. “My dad…” Alex takes a deep breath, “My dad tried to _beat_ the gay out of me. And your dad… He saw it. He did what he could to keep me safe. And that’s why he gave me this place. So I had somewhere to go. _That_ was Jim Valenti. He saw a kid suffering and he did what he could to protect him.” By the end of this, he’s just focusing on the floor, shame coursing through him at all the things his father had done, all the things he hadn’t been able to stop him from doing. All the things he hadn’t even tried to stop him from doing after that day in the toolshed.

“You remember that time we saw that cat in that tree out here? When we were kids?” Kyle asks. Alex is about to ask him what that has to do with anything when Kyle continues. “I was sure we should just wait for it to get down or get our dads, but you said it looked so scared. So you climbed all the way up there. I could swear you didn’t even give a thought to what would happen if you fell. And I remember you carried that thing all the way down. And it scratched the hell out of you, but… You didn’t drop it. Not even close. Not even when you almost fell.”

Alex doesn’t point out the fact that his dad would probably have been proud of him for climbing up that tree, even if he fell. He hadn’t been scared of falling for one second. His only fear had been if his dad caught him trying to rescue that cat. And what his father would have done to it in response. “I was reckless,” Alex replies softly.

Kyle shakes his head. “I mean, I wouldn’t say it was the right way to handle it now, but…” He pauses, “Your dad may be a monster, but… Even as a kid, you were the bravest person I’ve ever met.”

* * *

Isobel’s home looks dark and empty when Michael pulls into the driveway.

“You and Noah will be okay, Is,” Michael says softly. She had expected anger over Noah learning their secret. But that wasn’t what she had gotten from him. Just concern. And it’s not like he’s hiding it from her. She can feel the worry from him battering against her own mind. Neither of her brothers have perfected that skill, but at least it means they can reach out to her when they need something. “Want me to walk you in?” Michael interrupts her thoughts.

“Yes, please.” Maybe it’s a bit selfish for her to use Michael as a buffer between her and Noah, but she doesn’t know if she can handle any more of this tonight. Not when she’s on forty hours without sleep.

Isobel leads the way into the house, Michael following close behind.

The first thing she notices is that Noah’s shoes are gone. A few pairs. She gestures for Michael to wait and rolls her eyes when he plops down on her couch, cowboy boots up on the couch with him. But she doesn’t say anything, knowing that it’s only a sign that Michael feels safe with her. She walks up the stairs to her bedroom, hoping against hope that she’s wrong about the shoes.

She isn’t. Her bedroom is empty. And, when she checks the closet and the dresser, most of Noah’s clothes are missing.

She’s already crying when she finds the note on their bed, written in Noah’s neat handwriting.

_Isobel,_

_I’m taking some time to process everything that has happened. I’ll be back when I’ve figured things out._

_-Noah_

Isobel instantly clocks the lack of romantic words and promises. And that, more than the fact that he’s left, tells her how serious it is. Noah never misses a chance to tell her how much he loves her. He is the best, kindest, most romantic man she’s ever met. Truly the dream husband. And she’s pushed him to his breaking point. To their breaking point.

She only realizes that she’s sobbing when she hears the footsteps rushing up the stairs, the big, heavy cowboy boots pounding on the perfectly polished oak stairs.

“Do you want me to call Max?” Michael asks instantly, pulling her into his arms.

“No,” she sobs. “Don’t want to worry him.” She loves her twin more than anything or anyone. But she knows she can’t fall apart like this with him. She needs to be the strong one in their relationship. She always has. As much as she sometimes wishes she could. But Michael? She knows he will take care of her and keep her secrets. “Just stay, okay?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! New chapters should be available every Friday until this fic is done!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liz confronts Max, Alex confronts his father, and Team!Human meets up to talk about what they've learned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you as always to my amazing beta and friend, [InsidiousIntent](https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsidiousIntent/pseuds/InsidiousIntent). Thanks as well to my wonderful friend, Beka, who has been endlessly encouraging about this work.
> 
> Title shamelessly stolen from My Chemical Romance. Because who better to help with a title for a vampire fic?
> 
> Vampire stuff stolen from pretty much every vampire book, movie, or tv show I've read/watched.
> 
> I don't think this is nearly as dark as the tags would suggest, but, hey, anything that might be a trigger... Please let me know if I need to add to them!

Michael stretches when he wakes, the smell of coffee filling the air. Isobel’s couch is far comfier than his bed in the airstream and he’s slept well.

Isobel is in the kitchen when he pads in, accepting the cup she offers him silently, taking a sip before he speaks, “Wanna talk about what happened with Noah?”

He already knows that Noah knows she’s a vampire. She had told him on their way back to her home. But he worries she needs to talk about what actually happened between them. “His problem wasn’t that I’m a vampire, Michael. That wasn’t why he left.”

Michael is silent as he waits for her to elaborate.

“It was that I kept it from him for so long. Maybe Max was right. Maybe we should tell the truth to the people we love.”

“Yeah, but Liz isn’t Noah,” Michael says. It’s not just the issue of Liz being a biomedical engineer. Of what she could do to them either. It’s the question of Rosa. Of what happened to Kate and Jessica. And maybe Rosa too. Not that Isobel knows any of that.

“I know. But… I still think he’s right. He loves her. He needs to start out with honesty. Haven’t you ever wanted to tell Alex?”

Of course Michael has wanted to tell Alex. He’s wanted to tell Alex everything. But he also knows Alex doesn’t want him, doesn’t want to know. It’s just the epic sex to him, while Michael would give him anything he asked for, has already given him his heart over and over again, only to have it shoved right back at him. Only to watch Alex walk away again. “Yeah,” he admits softly. “I wanted to tell Alex.”

* * *

Alex thinks he’s finally put his father’s secrets and work together. Enough to confront him. Enough to finally get him out of their lives. To protect Michael. To finally have what he knows he wants. To see if Michael will give him yet another chance to finally get it right this time.

So he’s waiting outside his father’s home, once his home, watching his father walk towards the door.

“Is there something I can do for you, son?” his father asks.

“Just came to see how you’re doing, dad,” Alex manages to spit out. His heart is pounding. He’s planned this all out, but he’s well aware of what will happen if it doesn’t work.

“I’m busy. I have a lot to get to,” he says, waving the briefcase in his arm at Alex.

“That’s too bad. Because I have something I need to discuss with you,” Alex replies, following his father inside the house and swinging his cane, trying not to fall off balance as he does so. His father crumples to the ground and Alex closes the door quickly, locking it and assessing their surroundings.

Finally, he drags his father toward his office, wincing at all the added pressure that puts on his leg. He’s just hoping that, whatever he finds, this will be worth it all.

He hauls his father up into a chair and uses zip ties to tie his arms and legs in place. And then he turns toward the computer, turns it on and, while it boots up, he starts digging through all the desk drawers, picking the locks one by one and pulling out the files.

* * *

Liz hadn’t wanted it to be true. She really hadn’t. She remembers the boy who came and sat with her after prom, after Kyle was an ass and her mom didn’t show. The boy who held her while she cried. And she remembered later, the day Rosa disappeared, spending an entire afternoon just talking with him in the middle of nowhere, dancing, almost kissing. Making plans to explore the country together. The way he seemed to care about her. She still doesn’t want to believe he had been able to do that one minute and then murder two teenaged girls a couple of hours later. That he may have killed her sister a few hours later.

But Liz Ortecho believes in science. And in evidence. And the evidence says vampires killed Kate and Jessica. She is well aware there had been no real active vampires in the area around then. She would have known. Mimi kept her aware of all of that. In fact, vampires were rare in Roswell. Probably something about the sun, though Max didn’t seem to have much of a problem with that.

Maybe it had been an accident. She still can’t believe that it was a one-off. That this boy she liked had spent ten years not killing anyone, participated in the murder of two, maybe three, girls, and then hadn’t killed anyone since.

She needs answers. Which is why she finds herself outside Max’s home that morning, carrying coffee.

He opens the door and _damn_ he looks good. He’s not wearing a shirt and he’s so tall and muscular… She curses the fact that she’s still attracted to him after all of this. She needs to focus. On the science. On the _facts_. Not the fact that her stupid body is reminding her exactly how long it’s been since she’s had sex. Or the fact that she desperately wants him right now.

“You’re a vampire,” she blurts out.

He looks nervous, but he answers, “I am.” And he holds open the door, inviting her in.

“Vampires killed Kate and Jessica.”

“I was afraid you would say that.”

* * *

“Thank you for coming,” Maria says the instant Kyle walks up to the bar. “I just… I don’t know what to do. And… I know it’s not exactly your area of expertise, but you know me. And her. And you’re not an old white man who couldn’t possibly empathize.” Maria is well aware that he knows she’s referring to what happened to his father, to the way he had to watch him fall apart during those last few years of his life. Kyle knows what it’s like to deal with this, even if it’s in a completely different way.

“It’s no problem,” he replies with a smile, turning his attention to Mimi.

When he asks Mimi Deluca how she’s doing, she offers, “Fox’s sister turned into an alien. Cigarette Smoking Man gave her the virus and now he can experiment on her too.”

Maria sighs, explaining, “I think she’s been watching The X-Files. I don’t know. Sometimes she seems to think all those alien movies are real. And being surrounded by all of it here doesn’t help.” She turns her attention to her mother. “Aliens aren’t real, mom.”

“Well, obviously,” she replies, as if what Maria was saying made no sense. She turns her attention to the couple of other patrons in the bar, watching them closely. Maria is used to that look from far before her mom started to get sick. She’s busy reading them.

“Do you mind if I just continue to assess her for a while?” Kyle asks, pulling Maria’s attention back. “I want to see how long these episodes last and how frequent they are.”

Maria just nods, “Can I get you a drink?”

“Coke?” She is about to ask if he wants anything stronger when she considers that maybe, with his father’s alcoholism, that might be a touchy subject. He seems to sense this because he clarifies, “I’m on the clock.”

“How did you handle that? With your dad?”

Kyle sighs, “It was… Hard. I think some part of me blamed him for it. I mean, I know addiction is a disease. Logically, I know. The disease is what took him. But… I was angry at him for a long time. And my mom is still angry at him.” He fidgets with the glass of coke in front of him before continuing. “It helps that I have good memories of him. Before it all.” He thinks back to the previous day when he says, “Some people never have that.” He pauses, considering whether he can put this on Maria right now. When she’s going through so much.

“What?” she asks, sensing it before he speaks, as always. “We’re friends, Kyle. Talk.”

“I’ve been learning more about my dad lately. Things he was up to… I think he hurt a lot of people. And… What do I do with that?”

Maria walks around the bar and pulls him into a hug, “Hang on to those good memories, Kyle. And continue to be the good man you’ve become.”

Their hug is interrupted by Mimi, her voice soft, announcing, “The aliens are coming.”

* * *

Alex is astounded at how much information his father kept at his home. Had it been here when he was growing up? Would he have had all of this at his fingertips if he had ever dared to look?

It’s either arrogance or stupidity that made his dad keep all of it _here._ Where anyone could happen upon it. And, yeah, the stuff on his computer, that’s sheer stupidity. His dad never understood the complications of network security. But the files?

He’s going to have to take all of this with him, maybe keep it in that bunker in the cabin, as he is pretty sure his dad isn’t aware of it. As arrogant as Jesse Manes is and as careless as he is about his own security, there’s no way he would have trusted Jim to keep all of that information secure.

He is going through information about Jesse’s suspected vampires when it feels like the whole world falls out from under him.

_Michael Guerin_.

Of course his father would extend his hatred of Michael, his desire to hurt and control Alex, to this. To using this entire thing as a way to target anyone who Alex might _embarrass _him with. Anyone that his youngest son could possibly care for.

He reads further, expecting to be able to laugh it all off. Instead, everything from Michael’s juvenile record, all the suspicions of his foster parents… That suddenly makes much more sense. He’s already accepted that vampires are real, given the evidence he’s found in his searches. And now he knows without a doubt.

Michael Guerin is a vampire.

* * *

“You were _afraid_ of that?” Liz asks, voice rising with anger. “You were _afraid_ Kate and Jessica were killed by vampires?! While this entire town has been blaming Rosa and terrorizing my dad because they all blame him too, you’ve been _afraid_ it was vampires?” She seems to be about to continue when, instead, she cuts herself off, “You didn’t know it was vampires.”

“No. I… We worried that it was.”

“It was Michael and Isobel,” Liz concludes too quickly. And Max can’t refute that easily because he wasn’t _there_. Isobel doesn’t remember that night. And Michael won’t tell him a thing, but he has assumed this entire time that his refusal to speak has something to do with his broken hand. And why he won’t tell Max what happened to it. But Michael doesn’t make _sense_.

“It can’t have been,” he says finally. “Michael’s hand was broken that night. Sometime that night.”

“Oh, god, you’re still defending them now! You let them kill two girls and let my sister take the fall for it and you’re still defending them!”

Max knows that what he’s about to tell her will probably ruin any chance he has with her, but he _knows_ that facts are the only thing that will convince her of the truth. “I spent my thirteenth birthday camping with Isobel and Michael. We were in the middle of nowhere, planning on actually being able to hunt without having to hide it. And we were drinking.” He takes a deep breath, wiping his hand over his face, “A man showed up. Grabbed Isobel. We’re stronger than humans, but… He caught her by surprise and picked her up and he was-” He doesn’t want to think about that and Liz doesn’t need to know. It’s Isobel’s story to share or not. “Michael and I attacked him. And I got hurt during the struggle. He sliced my arm open with his knife. And I-” he turns away for a second, trying to gather himself to tell the woman he’s been in love with since he was a child about the worst thing he’s ever done. “I got the knife and I stabbed him. And, it smelled… I just… I was so hungry. I couldn’t stop myself. And while Michael was comforting Isobel, I… Killed him.” He knows Liz understands what he’s saying, that he doesn’t have to tell her that he _fed_ off of this man. “After… The wound on my arm? It was gone.”

“So you’re saying Michael’s hand would be healed if he had killed Kate or Jasmine,” Liz asks, collapsing on his couch in exhaustion. “Is that why you age?”

“I’d assume so?” Max answers her second question first. It’s not like they know anything about what they are. Just what they’ve managed to piece together on their own. “And, yeah. Michael won’t say what happened, but… That’s Michael. He never talks about those things. And, as far as I know, he’s never drank blood directly from a human.”

“And Isobel?”

Max wishes she hadn’t asked that. That he wouldn’t have to tell her. But he’s been gone for Liz Ortecho for so long and he’ll give her anything she asks for. “She doesn’t remember that night. She’s had blackouts or… Dissociative episodes… Since that night. Michael and I were worried it was her.” He sits down across from her finally, “But you said that it was vampires. Plural.”

“Yeah. Unless Isobel made a friend who joined her…” She pauses, “You thought for ten years that your sister killed Kate and Jasmine. And you let the entire town blame my sister.”

“I was protecting Isobel.”

“Don’t you get it, Max? What you did… It’s the worst thing that has happened to me. You and your family are the worst thing that has ever happened to mine!”

* * *

“Come on, Michael,” Isobel pushes. She’s been trying to get him to talk about Alex on and off throughout the day. “Just tell me what happened with him. I know you love him.”

Michael is trying and failing to fight off tears, “Fuck, Is. Yes. I love Alex. I have since we were seventeen. Maybe longer. But… You don’t know what his father is like. What he did… And then Alex fell in line. He… He signed up and he shipped out. And he left. He doesn’t want me. Not really. He’s chosen his family. To be a good little soldier with the rest of them. If I tell him, he’ll tell his father. If his father found out about us… It would be worse than any of those scenes from the UFO Museum. Worse than all those alien movies. He’s Air Force, Is. He’d hand us off to the US Military and he’d let them cut us up or tear us apart or experiment on us. So, I can’t tell Alex.”

“Alex isn’t his father, Michael.”

“He did what his father wanted him to do. Who’s to say that he won’t keep doing what his father wants?”

Isobel frowns, looks like she’s about to start speaking a few times. She’s considering her words. He’s never seen her so careful. “How well do you know Jesse Manes, Michael?”

“Pretty damn well, I’d say. The asshole did this to me,” he says, waving his left hand at her.

She gasps in response.

“He caught me and Alex together. And I couldn’t-”

Isobel doesn’t push him for more at first. Just considers. “What did Alex do when Jesse Manes caught you?”

Michael is confused for a moment, wondering what that matters. And then, trying desperately to keep his voice even, “He stood up. Between us. Said it was none of his father’s business.” He can swear he’s back there, watching that beautiful boy standing between him and that monster, so scared and yet so brave. “His dad grabbed him by the throat. And I couldn’t- He was hurting him.”

Isobel takes a shaky breath, “I don’t know Jesse Manes outside of my planning events for the veterans. But he’s always been controlling. I thought precise. But, controlling. His sons all follow his example perfectly. Like you said. Good little soldiers. I remember what Alex was like in high school. Pretty much the furthest thing from a good little soldier. Maybe he terrorized the rest of them into line too.”

Michael smiles for a moment at the memory of seventeen year old Alex Manes, eyeliner, nail polish, and _fuck you_ attitude. And then what Isobel is implying hits him. “You’re saying…” All Michael wants to do is find Alex and put himself between him and his father, keep him safe.

“Yeah.” She pauses, “You should tell him. I know it might not end up the way you want it to. But you deserve to be happy, Michael. If you think he could make you happy, you should tell him.”

“But he doesn’t stay, Is. He keeps leaving. Over and over again.”

“Have you ever asked him to stay? Have you ever told him what you want? Or what you need from him? Have you two ever even really _talked_?”

Michael just meets her eyes. She looks like she already knows the answer. “No.”

The look on her face reminds him of the time he saw her dealing with Noah’s nephews. Like it’s taking all of her self-control to remain calm and even. To not call him a moron. “Talk to him. Tell him what you need. Ask him for what you want. And, at the very least, if he wants to give you what you very clearly want, tell him the truth.”

“Am I that transparent?” Michael asks.

“Your Alex Manes heart eyes are even more obvious than Max’s Liz Ortecho heart eyes,” Isobel tells him, rolling her eyes. “Now go. I have things to do.”

“Yes ma’am.” He hopes Isobel will be okay. Oddly, talking him through his problems seems to have improved her mood greatly. So… He’s going to go home. And then figure out what, exactly, he wants. And how to tell Alex what he wants.

* * *

Alex has loaded up the files into his SUV and is finishing copying and wiping his father’s hard drive, looking over what he’s found, when his father wakes.

It’s strange, standing here in this house and towering over his father. Some part of him wants to cower and hide from the fists his body is certain are coming. There’s that sharp tang of adrenaline in the back of his throat, telling him to run. To prevent what happened so many times.

He faces the computer, finishing wiping it, taking deep breaths in and then letting them out slowly, focusing on what his therapist taught him, trying to regain his center.

And then, when he’s as ready as he’ll ever be, he turns to face his father.

Jesse may be zip tied to a chair, but Alex knows he’s a snake, ready to strike. Alex just needs to anticipate all his moves. He hopes he’s learned enough from the years under his father’s roof, from the decade in the Air Force.

Finally, he starts to speak, “I see you’ve been investigating vampires, _dad_,” that word tastes like poison in his mouth. “You’ve detained and surveilled American citizens without authorization. Against orders. I know you’ve brought this to the Air Force and they laughed you out. I know this is all secret from them.” He pauses before adding, “You will be on the next flight to Niger. A training program. You _will_ stop monitoring these people. You will stay away from Max and Isobel Evans. And Michael. Or I will send what I’ve found to General Davison. I know he’ll find it _fascinating_. You will be given a dishonorable discharge and your legacy, your good name, all of it... That will be gone. Do you understand me?” He doesn’t tell his father that he’s already set it up to email all those files if he doesn’t enter a code only he knows every single day. Best not to let his father know he has a failsafe.

“Think about what you’re doing son. These are monsters you’re protecting. They killed two innocent girls. Maybe more. You think that boy loves you, but he’s manipulated you this entire time. They’re not capable of love. They’re brutal k-”

“You’re the monster, dad!” Alex cuts him off. “You manipulated me. And now it’s over. Now_ I _can destroy the thing_ you _love most. You hurt one hair on his head and I will destroy you. Do you understand?”

He can see the moment his father retreats in his eyes, is well aware that it’s just a tactical retreat. He knows his father too well. He’ll be watching. Jesse just nods.

“Good,” Alex slowly cuts the zipties and stands, handing his father’s service weapon back to him.

The worst part is turning his back and walking out the door, every sense in his body prepared for the strike that doesn’t come.

* * *

“What do you mean my family is the worst thing that ever happened to yours?” Max asks, terrified of the answer, but knowing Liz needs to be able to say it. He’ll let her take out the ten years of anger and hurt she has on him. He can handle it.

She stands up, hair flying about her as she moves, whirls, paces back and forth, “My sister is… Was… A Mexican American woman. Don’t you see the stuff on the news with the blaming immigrants, blaming people like my parents, blaming Latinx people for all that’s wrong in this country? All the crime and the drugs and the death? Are you not paying attention? Do you think it started here? Because it didn’t. All my life, I’ve had to be ten times better than anyone else just to be treated like I was a good person. And I’m _still_ not given the benefit of the doubt. _Rosa_ wasn’t given the benefit of the doubt. If they thought it was Isobel, they’d say ‘oh, that poor white girl left them there because she was so scared and we have to get her help’. They’d say it was an accident. They’d _empathize_. But they thought it was _my_ sister. So what happens? My father is blamed for not raising his daughters right. My sister is blamed for two deaths she had nothing to do with. She’ll always be a predatory drug dealer in their eyes. The child of Mexican undocumented immigrants who murdered two innocent, _perfect_ white girls.” She pauses for a breath, eyes flashing with rage, “You let me and my father suffer, you let Rosa’s name be dragged through the mud even further than it already was, just so your sister could avoid consequences!” She whirls around and starts to storm toward the door.

Max reaches for her wrist to stop her, “Liz-”

“LET GO OF ME!” she shouts at the top of her lungs. It’s only now that he sees the tears streaming down her face, dripping from her chin. “Stay away from me, Max Evans.”

* * *

Alex is exhausted and sore, barely able to put any weight on his right leg, even with his cane, but he had promised he’d share what he found with Kyle. And Kyle had told him he’d be at The Wild Pony.

So that’s where Alex finds himself, dragging his tired body over to the bar.

“You know you could have postponed this until tomorrow?” Kyle asks, half of his attention on Mimi Deluca, who is busy people-watching. “No offense, dude, but you look like shit.”

Alex is too tired to come up with a comeback, but he’s saved by Mimi of all people, “I’m glad you came, Agent Spender.”

Alex raises an eyebrow in response. “Still on our X-Files kick, I see?”

“Yeah, she was telling me all about black goo earlier,” Kyle says lightly.

Alex is just about to respond, when Maria reaches their end of the bar, “What can I get you, Alex?”

“Well, you can let me know when you’ve got time for a break so we can actually catch up,” he replies. Their schedules make it hard to actually talk much, but they’ve both been trying.

“You know you could have gotten some sleep and come by tomorrow?”

“Yeah, but then I might waste my good-looking, well-rested self on you two.”

“Yes, much better to save that for some hot guys. Speaking of, see anyone interesting?”

Kyle looks supremely uncomfortable.

“He’s in love with an alien,” Mimi offers, like she’s been listening in the whole time but isn’t particularly interested.

Yeah, Alex knows she’s just confused, but it only makes him think about that day in the UFO Museum, the smile on Michael’s face after he kissed him. Like he felt it too. But it was all a lie.

Maria is watching him too closely and he knows exactly what she’s about to say before she speaks, “You’re still in love with Museum Guy!”

“Museum Guy?” Suddenly Kyle looks delighted to be a part of the gossip.

“There was this guy, senior year. He kissed Alex at the UFO Museum. Alex said-”

“Can we just not? It doesn’t matter. He’s not the person I thought he was.”

“Alex,” Maria’s tone is apologetic and she puts one gentle hand on top of his.

He fights back the sting of tears, thinking about the boy he had thought Michael was. That boy… Had participated in at least two murders shortly after that one sweet moment in the toolshed. He needs to stop clinging to those seemingly perfect moments he’s shared with Michael over the past ten years. Maybe then he’ll be able to find something _real_.

“I’m in love with a married person!” Maria blurts out.

Alex meets her eyes, swiping away his tears. He knows how Maria feels about vulnerability. Much the same as he does. She just hides it differently, with smiles and jokes. So he knows she’s said this because she knows _him_. And how close he was to finally breaking. How much he’d hate it if it happened in public.

Maria just gives him a conspiratorial grin and turns toward Kyle. Alex follows her lead, raising an eyebrow.

“What? I’m not in love with anyone,” Kyle replies easily.

When he doesn’t say anything more, she shrugs, grabbing a few beers, handing one over to each of them before opening a third for herself.

* * *

It’s been a long, painful day and, usually, Liz would go home and lick her wounds alone. But she just needs… She needs _Rosa_. But her sister is gone. Her mother is gone. And she can’t go to her dad with any of this.

So she finds herself outside of The Wild Pony, hoping Maria will be willing to listen.

Instead, when she steps inside, she finds Maria, Mimi, Alex, and Kyle. Most of the people who had been her family throughout high school.

Kyle and Alex are huddled together at a table in the corner, looking at a bunch of papers and talking. Maria is busy serving drinks while trying to keep an eye on Mimi, who is sitting at a table close to Alex and Kyle, doing a reading on a woman who can’t be more than twenty-two.

She’ll have to stop by and talk to her later, but first, she heads over to join Alex and Kyle.

“Hey,” Kyle says when he sees her, “I think we have some answers to your questions.”

“I’ve found all the answers I think you all could provide. More than,” she says tiredly, collapsing into the booth next to Alex, smiling as he lifts his arm and lets her snuggle in.

“I know what you mean,” he says, sounding just as tired and sad as she feels.

“So you found out about vampires then?” Kyle asks. And she’s shocked for a moment because he _knows_? But then she nods. Maybe she can _really_ open up to someone about all of this. Maybe she won’t be alone with it.

“I’ve known about vampires since I was sixteen.”

“Did you find out who the vampires in Roswell are?” Alex asks tiredly, causing Kyle to gape and Liz’s head to snap towards him, taking in the pain on his face.

“The Evans twins. And Michael Guerin,” she replies.

He nods, “Yeah.” He takes a deep breath, “My dad has been tracking them. Tracking and hunting vampires, locking them up and studying them. For… Probably decades. I haven’t had time to look into all of it.”

“Fuck,” Kyle says. “Wait, so the Evanses and Guerin killed Kate and Jessica? What happened to Rosa?”

Liz frowns. “I talked to Max. He said he didn’t. And I believe him. And he says Michael couldn’t have. Because I guess he broke his hand that night.” She doesn’t miss the way Alex stiffens next to her, the way he holds his breath. “And I guess if a vampire drinks human blood directly from the…. Tap, as it were… Any injuries are healed.”

She can feel Alex start to breathe again, relaxing more than he has since she’s been here. She’s about to ask when Kyle speaks, “And Isobel?”

“She could have been involved. But, if she was, she wasn’t alone in it.” She pauses. Turns to her friend, assesses the silent freakout he’s having. “So… You have a thing for angry cowboys, huh?”

He looks close to panic when the words escape her mouth. And she finds herself wondering why Alex, who has never been afraid of anything, seems so afraid of talking about this. But he does, “He’s a vampire.”

“According to Max, he’s never killed anyone, Alex. He’s not…” She takes a breath, “What they did isn’t okay. They hid what happened, what they thought happened. And they let Rosa take the fall. But… You love him, right?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Kyle interrupts their conversation, “Look, if he’s the person who has you acting like the world is ending, you should talk to him.”

“I just…”

“It’s a conversation, Manes. Ask him whatever you need to ask him. Just talk to him. That’s the only way you’ll get the answers you need. And maybe you’ll find out the world isn’t ending after all.”

He nods, tiredly, starting to stand up.

Liz scrambles out of the booth, out of his way, giving him a hug when he stands up. “Get some rest first though, okay?”

“You too,” he gives her the ghost of a smile before he walks out, leaning heavily on his cane.

She turns her attention to Kyle, when he asks, “So you and Max?”

“He let my sister take the fall for a double homicide, Kyle.” 

“Yeah. I mean, it’s not like I actually like Evans. Or am rooting for him. But you deserve to be happy. Maybe give him time to figure it all out? See if he can learn?”

“What are we talking about?” Maria asks as she plops in the seat next to Liz, leaning into her.

Liz snuggles into her friend, “Max Evans.”

“Romantic gossip? Share!”

“Nothing to share. I’m going to be leaving as soon as I find something new,” she reminds both Maria and Kyle.

“You know there are opportunities here, right? Or in Santa Fe? Or Albuquerque? You could stay in state,” Kyle offers, busy sliding all the papers into a folder.

She starts searching desperately for reasons to argue with him, reasons she can’t stay right here in Roswell.

“It’s not going to get better if you keep running, Liz.” He sounds so patient about it all.

“Yeah, Maybe.” She pauses, “When did you get so wise?”

“He was a complete ass in high school, wasn’t he?” Maria asks, tone teasing and light. Liz wonders how much she’s missed in the ten years she’s been away. Enough that Maria and Kyle are close. Enough that Kyle and Alex were working together.

Liz turns to Maria. “How are you doing? How’s your mom?” she asks quickly.

“I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. I’m having to make all these decisions about what’s best for her and… I have no idea what she’d want or what will help her.”

Liz frowns. “What do you think your mom would want you to do for yourself? Not for her. For you.” She knows Maria has a tendency to put her own problems on a backburner to cheer everyone else up and sometimes needs to be reminded to take care of herself too.

“I don’t know if I can do that,” Maria answers softly.

Liz shrugs, “I’m here when you figure it all out. And I’m sure Alex will be too. And Kyle,” she turns to her ex and smiles at him. “But, for now, I want to say hi to Mama Deluca.”

“She’ll be happy to see you,” Maria smiles in response, letting her out of the booth.

“If you’re free tomorrow,” Kyle starts, “I have some things I’d like your expert opinion on at work.” She catches his eyes drifting down to the folder in front of him and back up to her.

“I’ll see you then, she promises.

Liz hugs Maria again and heads over to where Mimi is sitting.

“Rosa!”

Liz flinches at that, but accepts Mimi’s hug, pulling her in close, noticing how frail the woman who had been like a second mother to her has become.

She lets her former Watcher take her hand, trace fingers over her palm. She knows Mimi’s not really looking at her palm, that this is habit more than anything, the performance aspect for those who expect it with their readings.

“You’ve been so alone. And scared. It’s dark where you are,” Mimi tells her. Liz had forgotten how accurate Mimi was. Because that’s exactly how she’s been feeling, though she’d never show it to anyone. “You just have to be strong. And keep fighting. Hold on. You’ll be reaching the light soon. You’ll be surrounded by love. And you’ll be able to let all of this go.” She is silent for a long moment before letting go of Liz’s hand. “Now, Liz, tell me, how have you been?”

Liz spends a long time filling her in on everything. And, when she finally is done and stands, she leans in for a hug, feeling like all the weight has left her shoulders. Mimi always had that odd ability to make her feel unburdened.

She’s turning to go, when Mimi speaks again, “Watch out for the bees, dear.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I hope some of you enjoyed the X-Files references. New chapter should be up in a week.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maria helps Isobel recover her memories, Michael and Alex talk, and Liz and Kyle learn more about what Jesse and Jim have done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you as always to my amazing beta and friend, [InsidiousIntent](https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsidiousIntent/pseuds/InsidiousIntent). Thanks as well to my wonderful friend, Beka, who has been endlessly encouraging about this work.
> 
> Title shamelessly stolen from My Chemical Romance. Because who better to help with a title for a vampire fic?
> 
> Vampire stuff stolen from pretty much every vampire book, movie, or tv show I've read/watched.
> 
> I don't think this is nearly as dark as the tags would suggest, but, hey, anything that might be a trigger... Please let me know if I need to add to them!

Liz shows up at Kyle’s place early with two large cups of coffee, ready to search through the files from Jim Valenti’s cabin and Jesse Manes’ home. She doesn’t know that she’ll learn anything about vampires, but, if these men were hunting vampires, well, they might have found more information about why Rosa disappeared. Even if they never realized it.

Kyle takes the coffee the instant he opens the door. “You said you were made to hunt vampires, right?”

“I’m a Slayer, yeah. Chosen one. Or chosen one out of like a million probably.”

“So vampires are evil, right? There must be a reason you were made to kill them.”

“They usually kill people to survive, sure. But that doesn’t mean that they as a species are inherently evil. Max, Michael, and Isobel found a way around it. And, even if they are… I think I just exist to stop them from killing. To protect people from vampires. Why?”

Kyle seems vaguely unsettled. Unlike his usual self. He’s usually so steady. “My dad was capturing them. And, according to all of this, they were studying them. And, okay, yeah, that could be bad, but… They could also find a way to stop them from killing, right?”

Liz sits down, reaching for the files on the coffee table. They’re spread all over the place. “Theoretically, yeah. But, Kyle, you know the history of medicine. The history of experimentation on prisoners, on disabled people, on black people. Vampires may not be human, but they still feel pain. It’s still torture with the veneer of acceptability.”

Kyle scrubs his hand over his face, “I just… My dad participated in it. He had to have a reason. I can’t… He wouldn’t do this without a reason.”

Liz wishes she could give one to him. Something to help him make sense of it all. She knows the pain of realizing what someone you loved and looked up to was capable of.

* * *

Max is surprised to find Isobel cleaning and organizing when he reaches her house. She has had the same organizational system for most of her life and rarely spends much time on it, just enough to maintain it. Now it looks like she’s starting over from scratch, things thrown everywhere. He remembers the last time this happened. Shortly after Rosa’s death. She wouldn’t tell him why she was upset back then, but he hopes she’ll tell him now.

“What’s going on here, Isobel?” he asks, stepping into her bedroom.

“I’m reorganizing everything.” Her head is buried in the closet as she throws clothing behind her.

“I gathered as much,” he replies carefully. “Why?”

“Because Noah left me. Maybe permanently. After he found out about us,” she answers, tone scarily even. “And stop using that tone with me. You sound like you’re talking to a spooked horse.”

“Noah _what_?”

She turns to face him, “He found my blood supply. I was stupid, leaving it in the house.”

“Is he going to tell anyone?” Max asks quickly.

“Suddenly you’re so worried about who finds out about us,” she says, turning back to her closet. “What about Liz? Didn’t you desperately need to tell her the truth?”

“Yeah. She figured it out on her own. And… I think telling her may have been a bad idea.”

She turns around again, things forgotten, and sits down on the edge of her bed. “No, Max, it wasn’t. No matter what happens… You want to have a relationship with her, right?”

He nods.

“You could never have that if you didn’t tell her _this_. It’s too big to keep secret. And she deserves to know before…” She takes a deep breath. “What I did to Noah was unfair.”

All Max can think about in that moment is what he’s kept from her. And she can see it on his face, “What are you keeping from me, Maxwell?”

He backs away as she stands and he blurts out, “Kate and Jasmine were killed by vampires and you don’t know where you were that night.” He pauses before adding, “And Liz knows.”

He’s surprised by how calm Isobel is. How it takes her just a minute before she says, “Good.”

“Good?”

“Yes. Good. Liz deserves to know what really happened. You’ve seen what has happened to her father since Rosa disappeared. Bricks through windows, slurs spray painted on the doors. And now an actual shooting. They never deserved any of that. You shouldn’t have let that happen. You should have made it right.” She turns and leaves the bedroom, rushing down the stairs.

Max follows close behind, “Where are you going?”

“To find out where I was that night. And then to find Liz and see what I can do to help her.”

* * *

Alex waits until early afternoon to visit Michael, unsure what kind of hours he keeps since he’s moved to Sanders’ lot.

Michael is there and awake, head under the hood of a car, clearly working on something.

Alex takes a moment to enjoy the lines of his body, to drink him in.

But it’s only a moment because Michael is turning to look at him. “Car need a tune up, or…?” he asks, tone harsh as compared to the last time they saw each other. Like that’s the only thing he could imagine Alex coming to him for. Just showing how much he hurt him. Again.

“Can we talk?”

Alex expects to be turned down quickly with the mood Michael is in, but, instead, he sighs and answers, “Give me another ten minutes to finish this up?”

Alex just nods and heads over to the chairs, finding one that’s facing Michael and sitting down, taking the weight off his leg. It’s better than it was yesterday, but he’s still in pain.

“You know you can take that thing off if it’s bugging you,” Michael says from beneath the hood of the car.

He wonders if Michael can sense that he’s in pain or something. He adds that to his mental list of things to ask, and just answers, “If I do that, I have to take my pants off.”

He can hear Michael’s smirk when he replies, “I wouldn’t complain.”

Alex knows he’s just flirting, like always. But all he can think about is the fact that Michael hasn’t seen his leg. No one but doctors or physical therapists has seen it at this point. “It’s not a pretty sight,” he admits, softly.

“Darlin’,” Michael drawls, sending a shiver up Alex’s spine. “There’s nothing about you that’s not beautiful.”

Alex knows better than to argue. That’s not why he’s here anyway. Not to have Michael reassure him that he’s still desirable, even though he still desperately wants to be desired by Michael. Instead, he just sits back and waits for Michael to finish.

* * *

The Wild Pony is empty when Isobel arrives.

“We’re closed!” Maria calls out when the door opens. She’s standing at the bar, facing away from the door, not really paying attention to who just walked in.

“I actually came here to talk to you. If you don’t mind,” Isobel says.

That’s when Maria turns around, letting out a sigh and setting what she was working on back on the bar. “Go back home to your husband, Isobel.”

She wants to tell Maria the truth, but is certain that’s not fair to her. Not now. Not when she has so many questions of her own. And certainly not when she doesn’t know if Noah will be back. Instead, she says, “I need your help with something.”

“Not interested.”

Isobel keeps walking towards her. “I wouldn’t ask if it didn’t have to be you. And I can pay.”

Maria leans back against the bar. “What is it?”

“I need you to help me retrieve some memories.”

* * *

Alex is trying to figure out how to approach everything when Michael speaks, “What did you come here for, Alex?”

“I wanted to talk to you.”

“So talk.”

Alex bites his lip, brow furrowing as he decides where he wants to begin, “I don’t want to keep running away from you like I have been. I know it’s not fair to you. I want…” Alex wishes he could read Michael’s expression as he searches for a way to tell him what he wants with the person he wants to believe Michael is. “I want to try to be friends? Maybe date, if you’d want that? Try to start this thing over the right way?” He takes a deep breath, getting to the subject at hand, the thing that needs to come before they figure out what they are or really want to be, “I want to know who you are.”

Michael looks completely terrified for a moment, but then he says it so easily, like it’s nothing. “I’m a vampire.” He doesn’t say anything more for a moment, seemingly assessing Alex’s reaction. But this isn’t new information. Just confirmation of his father’s suspicions. Michael finally continues, “I don’t know exactly where I come from. First thing I remember is being seven years old and abandoned by whatever family I had. I assume, anyway. I don’t remember them, if I had a family at all. I was alone with Max and Isobel.” He pauses, “You can see we age. And can be hurt. But… we’re stronger than humans. We can tell someone to do something and, more often than not, they will, whether or not they want to. And our blood can heal people.”

None of this is new information for Alex. Nor is it really what he wants to know. He doesn’t care that Michael is a vampire. Not really. He cares who Michael is as a person. So he redirects, “They put you into the system when you, Max, and Isobel showed up? Why did they separate you?”

“I told you that I can make you do things you don’t want to do and that I could have healed you after-” Michael swallows, eyes bright with unshed tears. “You want to know about why Max and Is got adopted and I didn’t?”

“You’ve never made me do anything I don’t want to do,” Alex is absolutely certain of this fact. _He’s _been the one preventing himself from doing what he wanted. Not Michael. He takes a breath before turning to the subject that seems to be causing Michael so much guilt and pain. “And you couldn’t have healed me. Not without exposing yourself, Max, and Isobel. I’m alright.” He gives Michael a small smile, hoping it will reassure him. “I said I want to know _you_.”

Michael’s voice is deceptively even when he speaks, but Alex can sense how much he’s struggling with saying it. “The Evanses came to the group home and decided to take home Max and Isobel. I had already been caught a few times. Trying to dispose of the animals we ate. So they didn’t want me.”

Alex just nods. He had guessed as much from the file. He may barely know Michael, but he had guessed that the dead animals he’d been caught with, the ones that raised people’s suspicions, had been food for himself and his siblings. That Michael took the blame for them. He hates how this makes perfect sense for the boy who had put his own body between Alex and his father.

“They sent me into foster homes. Meth heads in Albuquerque. Violent drunk in Santa Fe. No one halfway decent ever wanted to keep the creepy kid who might be a budding serial killer. Not like I can blame them. Eventually, I ended up here. With a family of religious freaks. Who thought they could pray the devil out of me.”

Alex doesn’t need any explanation beyond that to imagine the neglect and abuse Michael experienced. He fights back tears, knowing that Michael will mistake them for pity.

* * *

“No way, Isobel,” Maria responds. She can hear her voice rising, feel the way the panic is taking over at the mere thought of what Isobel is suggesting. All she can think about is the potential ramifications of what Isobel is asking for and the thought of any of them happening is more than she can handle.

“You can do it, Maria. I know you can. You’re a witch.”

“I don’t know how. It might not work. Or I could make things worse. You have one gap in your memory now. I could damage the rest of your memory. I could… I could break you. You might not be _you_ anymore and I can’t- You can’t ask me to be responsible for that, Is. You just can’t.” She can’t seem to catch her breath. Her chest is getting tighter and everything is starting to feel very far away.

Until Isobel slides one cool, delicate hand into hers. “Maria, look at me.”

Her eyes are filled with concern, her voice low and even as she says, “I want you to breathe with me. Can you do that?”

Maria nods frantically, trying to focus on Isobel’s breathing, noting the way Isobel gives her hand a light squeeze when she wants Maria to breath in.

“I’m asking you because I _know_ you can do it, Maria. I trust you. You won’t hurt me.” Her eyes leave Maria’s, focusing on the floor, “I think I hurt someone. I just need to know if I did. And you’re the only person I trust to help me figure it out.” She pauses, squeezing Maria’s hand again lightly. “If you don’t want to, I’ll find a way to deal. And, if you’re willing to try, we can stop at any time.” Maria almost gasps when she feels cool fingers tracing her jaw, “I’ve got you.”

She wants to tell Isobel to stop. She can’t think with Isobel so close. She knows she shouldn’t. But she just _wants_. Finally, she closes her eyes and forces herself to step back, tries to steady her voice, “Okay. We’ll do this.”

* * *

Max sits with a cup of coffee in the Crashdown, just watching the people around him, watching the way they speak to each other, the way they speak to Arturo. He doesn’t understand the way Liz sees the world, but he wants to. He wants to understand her better.

He listens to the disgust in Hank’s voice as he speaks to Arturo, telling him to hurry up while he’s busy with another customer. Sees the way people ignore it. Hears the things they mutter under their breath, all while expecting the kindness Arturo gives to everyone.

He may not see it, he may not get it completely, but he thinks he’s starting to understand how what the entire town thinks Rosa did adds to the way they treat Arturo and Liz. How they already saw her as lesser than and how this only adds to it. How it’s not just the bricks through windows or the hate painted on their doors. How it’s the little things too.

* * *

Maria takes a deep breath, trying to let go of all her nerves with a deep exhale, as her mom taught her to. It never quite works for her.

“Sit down,” she says softly, gesturing to the middle of the circle of candles.

Isobel does as she asks, folding long legs until she’s seated on the floor, leaving more than enough room for Maria to join her.

And she does, reaching out for Isobel’s hands. They’re so cold in her own, like always.

Isobel is perfectly silent as Maria closes her eyes and murmurs the words of the spell under her breath. It’s not like they really matter. Her mother taught her as much. She could do some spells with a mere thought, but Maria never took the opportunity to learn and even the little spells take too much out of her.

It’s draining her too fast already and she’s not going to be able to get anywhere at all. Her brow furrows in frustration at her own weakness.

Isobel seems to sense it however, like she always had, and pulls her right hand closer, pressing it against her pale, cold chest.

Maria can feel an overwhelming surge of power hit her in an instant, a tidal wave nearly pulling her under, but she can feel _Isobel_ beneath it all, helping her center herself.

She reaches forward with her left hand, opening her eyes enough to find Isobel’s temple, pressing fingers against it as she starts murmuring the words again, trying to focus on what Isobel said she was trying to find, to bring it out until both of them can see it.

And there it is.

She can’t see Isobel. It’s like she’s inside her body, but Isobel herself is gone from it. Maria can remember times like this. When she was with Isobel and it was like she disappeared on her.

Maria focuses on what Isobel is seeing, on Rosa. She’s wearing the same outfit she was that day, the crimson leather jacket, the flowy tee, the kneehigh combat boots she loved so much.

She watches Kate and Jasmine talking to Rosa, watches the way Rosa tries to push past them, tries to refuse them. The way they follow. She can’t quite hear what they’re saying. It’s like she’s trying to listen from underwater, the sound too muffled to make out.

A car pulls up to the group. No, an SUV. She watches as all three of the girls speak with the person inside. And how they, one by one, climb inside. And she watches it drive off.

Being kicked out of the memory is painful and sudden. Everything is too bright and solid and loud around her.

She pulls her hand away from Isobel’s face, lets the other fall away from her chest, just trying to focus on catching her breath. She can feel sleep dragging her under, her body and mind too exhausted from the amount of energy she had used, even though most of it hadn’t been her own.

And, just before she loses consciousness, it hits her. She _knows_ that SUV. She knows who it belonged to.

* * *

“How’d you know about me?” Michael finally asks.

“My dad has been hunting vampires for decades.” That’s probably somewhere near the last answer Michael expected. He thought it would be something about how Max told Liz and Liz told Alex, Maria, Kyle, and who knows else.

“Fuck, Alex,” Michael replies instantly. “You have to get away from me.”

“He’s gone,” Alex replies. “I sent him away. If he hurts you, I’ll destroy him.”

Michael doesn’t understand it for a moment. For too long. All he can think is what Jesse Manes will do to Alex if he learns he’s talking to a _vampire_. The ways he’ll hurt him. Like he tried to hurt Alex that day in the toolshed. And then it hits him. He _understands_. “That’s why you left. That’s why you kept leaving.”

Alex’s dark eyes are filled with tears that don’t fall. It takes him a while to speak, “I didn’t know you were a vampire. I just… I knew he could hurt you. I knew he would.” He looks away, blinking rapidly, “I needed you to be safe.”

Michael is off of his chair in an instant, hitting the ground in front of Alex, knees absorbing the impact. All he knows is he needs to touch Alex. He reaches up with his good hand to touch, his breath catching at the way Alex nuzzles into his hand, the way he presses those soft, full lips against his palm. He wants to be mad that Alex spent ten years risking his life for him, that he almost died for him. But he realizes that Alex only did the same thing he wanted to. He’d give anything to keep Alex safe. “Promise me you’ll talk to me next time? We can figure it out together.”

He’s treated to a ghost of a smile. “I found something in my dad’s files. I was going to check it out tomorrow. A prison. Caulfield. Outside of Taos. I think my dad was…” He can see the way Alex is struggling to get the word out.

“Experimenting?” he asks. He’s had a long time to adjust to the horror of what humans do to people like him.

Alex nods, “Yeah. I thought I might find some more information on what he was up to.”

“That’s a long drive. Mind if I join you?” He doesn’t really want to see what Jesse Manes has done. But he’s not going to let Alex go alone. Not into that.

“You don’t have to.”

Michael just shrugs, “I love you.” That’s explanation enough for him.

* * *

Kyle has been looking through his father’s files for a while, Liz focusing on Jesse’s. She’s reading about how vampires are created, too horrified by the implication of how Jesse learned that vampires can either be humans who die with vampire blood in their system or that they can be _born._

She’s so horrified and heartbroken that she doesn’t realize at first when Kyle stills. When she does, she places the paper down on the table, moving to sit next to him on the couch.

The picture is old and grainy, the edges rough and bent, like it’s been held and looked at a lot. And Liz recognizes it instantly. That blanket…

In the photo, it’s brand new. But Liz remembers seeing it as a child, the edge perpetually stained from dragging around on the floor, the once clean pale pink dirty and yellowed. The R and the rose in the corner were frayed, missing stitches.

“That’s Rosa,” she breathes, taking in the rest of the photo, recognizing the man who is holding her. Not her father. Jim Valenti.

The pieces fall neatly into place after that. The man who had been so concerned with Rosa’s well being. Who had checked in on her every day. Who had made sure she came home safe, that she stayed out of the trouble that so many other poor Latinx children would have gotten into if they had done the same things.

“His drinking got worse after she disappeared,” Kyle breathes. “I thought it was about Kate and Jasmine. That he blamed himself. But-”

“Rosa is his daughter,” Liz says, surprised at how even her voice sounds.

“Oh, god, Liz, I’m-” Kyle starts.

“Don’t,” she holds out a hand, interrupting him. “She was your sister too.”

* * *

As she wakes, Maria nuzzles into the soft, cool fabric beneath her face, the curves beneath it. She can feel delicate fingertips tracing along her hairline, down past her temple, sliding to her jaw.

“Feeling better?” Isobel asks, her voice quiet and gentler than it’s been in recent memory.

Maria hums, wanting to stay like this for a while. She’s about to drift back off, content to be held by Isobel Evas, when she remembers. It’s Isobel Evans-Bracken now. She pushes herself up, scrambling away, trying to force that distance back into her mind. “Got what you came for?” her tone may be too harsh, but she doesn’t care at the moment. She needs Isobel _out_ before she does something stupid and selfish.

“I-” Isobel looks confused and hurt for a moment. And then the ice queen mask is back in place and Maria can relax again. She can do this. “Yes. Thank you.” She’s reaching for her purse, pulling out her wallet, sliding a few hundreds out and setting them on the floor, sliding them across towards Maria.

“Keep it,” Maria bites out. “I don’t want your money.”

Isobel stretches, pushing herself upward until she’s standing, towering over Maria. She doesn’t touch the money, just strides toward the door. She seems like she’s about to take a parting shot. Maria can see it on the tip of her tongue and she’s waiting for it, waiting for something that will make this easier, something that will make pushing Isobel away easier. Isobel takes a breath, hesitating. But then she just turns and heads out the door, leaving Maria alone and confused and wishing she could just _stop_ her traitorous heart from wanting.

* * *

The drive to Taos is long and, even with many stops, Michael can see the way it wears on Alex, the way he’s trying to hide his pain. He tries his best to distract him, asking questions about everything he can think of. Silly things, small things. And sharing his own answers. Trying to make Alex smile.

They stop for dinner when they’re halfway there and he just wants to hold Alex’s hand the entire time. But he doesn’t, focusing instead on finishing his burger and watching the way Alex dips his fries in his milkshake before eating them.

It’s late when they reach Taos. They’ve agreed to go to Caulfield early in the morning and that should give them more than enough time to drive back home.

Michael pulls his truck into the parking lot of an old, rundown motel. He wonders if he can get away with sleeping in his truck or if Alex will catch him. He’s not quite sure he can pay for a night, even at this place, even with Alex insisting on paying for all the gas and trying to pay for all the meals.

He follows him inside, standing slightly to the side as Alex reaches the counter, tapping his fingers on the old, chipped green counter.

A man steps out from the back.

“Two rooms, please,” Alex is already pulling his credit card out of his wallet.

Michael opens his mouth to object when the man answers, “Only got one room. Some art festival here this weekend.”

“We’ll take it,” Alex says evenly, waiting as the man runs his card and hands him the keys.

“I can sleep in my truck, you know,” Michael says as he follows Alex.

Alex stops still, wincing as he turns to face him, eyes sad, “I didn’t want you to sleep in your truck when you were seventeen and I barely knew you. What makes you think I’d be okay with that now?”

He looks at his boots, shame coursing through him, not sure how to answer.

“Hey,” Alex’s voice is so gentle that Michael can’t deny him and he looks up to meet his eyes again. “If you have a problem sharing a room with me, that’s okay. I’ll find somewhere else to sleep. But, if-”

“No,” he interrupts. “I’m good.” Of course he wants to be as close to Alex as he can be.

Alex turns around, limping his way toward the room and Michael wants to do anything to help, but he knows that would be unwelcome. So, instead he just follows, watching as Alex unlocks the door.

The first thing he notices is the single king-sized bed in the middle of the room. The carpet is worn, the dresser and desk both chipped.

Alex takes the bathroom first and Michael follows, just quickly washing up and listening for Alex in the main room. He can hear him undressing, the rustle of clothing, the little noise of relief he makes when he removes his leg. He waits until he hears the rustle of sheets. Then Michael steps into the room already stripped down to worn but clean boxers. Finally, he turns off the lights and climbs into bed.

He wants to move closer, to sink into Alex’s warmth, to hold him like he’s never gotten to. But, instead, he stays back, uncertain whether or not he’ll be welcome. They’ve talked about lots of things, but not really where they stand now, other than Alex’s declaration about what he wants. He watches the way Alex’s face changes as he thinks, the lines that appear on his forehead.

Alex’s voice is little more than a whisper when he finally speaks, “Liz said that, if you drink from a human, that’ll heal you.”

Michael just nods, trying to figure out where Alex is going with this line of inquiry. But he’s more than happy to just lay here and find out.

Alex reaches out, takes his left hand in his own, fingertips tracing over scar tissue, feeling the way his bones healed wrong.

Michael is transfixed by the way Alex lifts his hand to his lips. One featherlight kiss to the back of his hand, followed by each knuckle. Then the tips of his fingers.

Alex moves his hand again, placing it gently against his neck. Michael can feel his pulse, surprisingly steady and even. Alex tilts his head, baring his throat further for Michael, exposing perfect golden skin.

Michael moves closer, scooting forward on the bed until he’s practically pressed against Alex, until he can feel his heat seeping into him, warming him up too.

Alex doesn’t shake. Doesn’t move. His breathing is even, his heart rate normal. “I trust you,” he says, as if he thinks Michael needs an explanation. Michael is perfectly aware of what he’s offering, what he’s willing to give to undo what his father did.

Michael slowly lowers his mouth toward Alex’s neck and presses one featherlight kiss to his pulse point, smiling at the little gasp Alex makes in response. He breathes Alex’s familiar, woodsy scent in, mouth still hovering as he speaks. “I’m not going to hurt you, darlin’. Not to fix my hand. Not for any other reason.” He presses another kiss against the same spot, tongue flicking out to lick over smooth skin.

He’s rewarded with a desperate moan and Alex’s warm, strong hands on him, one tangling in his curls, pressing Michael’s mouth against his throat, the other on his back pulling him closer until he can sink into Alex’s warmth. Until he can melt into that sense of safety and _home_ that he has only ever found in the arms of Alex Manes.

* * *

Liz is emotionally exhausted from everything she’s seen. The things Jesse Manes and Jim Valenti learned. The knowledge of what they must have done to vampires to learn all those things about them. The long list of facilities where they had kept, maybe still keep, vampires. To experiment on. And then learning about Rosa. She wonders if her father knew. He must have, if Jim had been there at the hospital when Rosa was born. And, yet, he had raised her as his own anyway. Had taken the blame for everything the entire town blamed both him and Rosa for with his head held high. And with kindness.

And she had left him alone with all of this. She’s been preparing to leave him alone with it again. Not because there’s not interesting work being done here; she’s looked into the studies being done at the local hospital and they fascinate her. But because of this town and all the people in it.

She opens the door to the Crashdown to find it nearly empty. Just Max, sitting in a booth, a cup of coffee in his hand. She assumes her dad is in the kitchen.

“Can we talk?” Max asks, standing up. He looks unfairly handsome in that uniform.

She crosses her arms over her chest, trying to shut him out, wishing she wasn’t still attracted to him. And she considers his question, knowing that, if she stays here for her dad, she’ll have to address this at some point. Finally, she answers, “Tomorrow. Five P.M. I’ll meet you at your place.” She can’t have the conversation she needs to have with him in public. And she needs to sleep before she even considers dealing with him.

He gives her a devastating smile and she curses herself for reacting to it, “I’ll see you then.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael and Alex visit Caulfield, Kyle helps Maria with her mother, and Max and Liz talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, as always, to my amazing beta and friend, [InsidiousIntent](https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsidiousIntent/pseuds/InsidiousIntent) and my wonderful friend, Beka, who screamed at me about a lot of this. Thank you to Meagn for letting me borrow the Manes brothers' names.

Michael wakes to warmth like he never truly gets to experience. He can feel Alex’s chest rising and falling beneath his head, the gentle, steady beating of his heart beneath his ear. Alex is _safe_ and here and Michael wants to wake up like this every single day for the rest of his life.

He moves just enough to kiss golden skin, hands starting to explore already.

“Morning,” Alex says, voice rough with sleep and so beautiful.

He lifts his head and meets warm brown eyes and a soft smile. “Good morning,” Michael replies, moving up to his lips, sucking that gorgeous, full lower lip into his mouth and delighting in the moan Alex makes. Yes, this is the absolute best way to wake up.

“We should get going,” Alex says when he pulls away to let him catch his breath. But his words are belied by the strong hand in Michael’s curls, the other sliding down his back, soothing over his spine, sliding lower.

“You sure?” Michael replies, pressing kisses to his throat, giving gentle nibbles to the skin there, smiling at the way it makes Alex shiver. His mouth continues to move, peppering kisses down Alex’s chest, one hand stroking Alex’s thigh and up over his hip.

“After,” Alex answers, voice sounding strained. “We can have this after.”

“You promise?” Michael asks, stopping his exploration and, instead, looking up to meet Alex’s eyes, part of him still worried that he will walk away again once they’ve left this perfect little bubble that’s just them. Even if he understands why Alex left in the first place.

“I promise,” His voice even and certain.

So Michael surges upward and presses another kiss against his lips. Just because he can. Just because he never wants to stop kissing Alex Manes.

And then he forces himself to get up and start dressing, to get ready to face whatever they’ll find. He knows that it will be horrifying. Probably every single thing he’s had nightmares about. But he thinks he can handle it with Alex at his side. And there’s no way in hell he’s leaving Alex to handle it on his own.

* * *

Kyle walks into The Wild Pony to find Maria ready with a suitcase and another bag, Mimi seated at the bar, unaware of what’s going on.

“Thank you for doing this, Kyle,” Maria’s voice is soft and tired. “I’m sorry to keep taking you away from work.”

“You aren’t,” he smiles at her. “Just finished my shift.”

She nods and he reaches for the suitcase and the bag. “Your car or mine?”

“Mine. Mom knows it,” Maria answers.

So he heads out the door and leaves her to bring her mom with, loading the bags in the trunk and waiting by the car.

Maria looks like she’s weighed down by the world, even more than usual today, and he gets it. She’s so used to taking care of her mom and everything herself and he knows this is hard for her. To trust other people with her mother’s care. He knows it feels like failure to her and there’s little he can do about it other than be there for her now.

Mimi climbs into the passenger seat, so Kyle gets in back, waiting for Maria to start the car. He’s silent as she takes her time, just breathing, her hand steady when she finally starts the car and begins the drive.

* * *

Michael is quiet when they drive up to Caulfield and all Alex can do is worry about him. About what he’s about to put him through. “We don’t have to do this, you know.” He reaches for Michael’s hand, squeezing it lightly when it slides into his own

“No, we do,” Michael answers, stopping the truck and climbing out, pulling out of Alex’s reach. So he follows Michael’s lead toward the prison.

Michael is quieter than usual as they walk through the halls, Alex swiping the card he took from his father through each successive set of doors, so glad his father didn’t think to alert them. Of course he couldn’t though. That would mean admitting that he’s failed, that Alex got the drop on him, and he’d never do that.

He pauses when he hears footsteps coming, “You need to hide,” he says softly, well aware of what could happen if they catch Michael here. He realizes in this moment how foolish he was to bring Michael, but he couldn’t lie to him anymore, couldn’t keep him out of these things that are so obviously about him. That he should have a say in too.

“No, I’m not leaving you,” Michael objects instantly.

So Alex responds by pulling him in and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, “I’ve got this. Go.”

He waits until Michael is out of sight to turn towards the footsteps heading his way.

“Alex,” a familiar voice says. “What are you doing here?”

* * *

Isobel should be at work. She should be focusing on planning the next big thing, a charity drive-in event to benefit veterans. But, instead, she’s got her headset in her ear and her phone with her, ready to answer any time. She’s hoping that her assistant, Matt, can handle all of this, but she’s expecting quite a few panicked calls at any point.

She should be there. But she needs answers. She needs to know who owns the silver SUV she saw driving away with Rosa, Kate, and Jasmine, the night Rosa disappeared and the two other girls died.

So she walks into the sheriff’s department, walking up to Frank, the man she knows to be most easily manipulated. “You will give me access to the DMV database.”

He doesn’t say anything, just types into his computer and steps aside, letting her take his chair.

“Go get a coffee,” she orders, “I’ll be a while.” She’s grateful his office is in the corner, slightly out of sight, allowing her to focus and only stop if she hears people approaching. But, right now, there’s only the sounds of phones ringing, people answering, and Sheriff Valenti talking to someone in her office.

So Isobel begins her search.

* * *

Flint is standing in front of him, serious as always, “What are you doing here?”

“Dad sent me,” Alex lies easily. “He wanted me to look into the network security here, maybe see how it can be improved.” He pauses, “And he wanted me to bring him an update.”

Flint raises an eyebrow, but seems to accept it, leading Alex down the hall, “Things are going well. We’ve made progress on the smart bomb. The subjects have remained docile on the new regimen. And we’ve managed to create new subjects. I think we’re ready to progress to the next step.”

“Smart bomb?” Alex asks, worried. He wants to ask about the word _subjects_ and the words _create new subjects_, his mind reeling with possibilities, each more horrifying than the last, but he knows he won’t be able to keep his voice steady if he asks about that..

“Not really a bomb, per se, though Dad called it that. You know he loves his weapons.” Not like Flint is any different. “A virus that specifically targets vampires’ immune systems. Based on tests, humans would experience nothing more than a cold, but vampires… It shuts down their entire systems. Actually, what it does to them is pretty cool,” Flint’s eyes light up and Alex remembers what Flint was like as a child. The boy who enjoyed burning ants. “Do you want to watch the video?”

“You can put it on a hard drive for me,” Alex replies, impressed at how even his tone is when even just the words Flint is saying combined with his excitement conjure the most horrifying images in his head. “I don’t have time to watch it now.”

They’ve reached the computers and Alex bends over the desk, working on hacking into the system as quickly as possible, hooking up a hard drive, grateful his brother has no real understanding of computers and what he’s doing.

“I didn’t expect you of all people to join up. Dad never did see much value in all this computer stuff,” Flint’s tone is light and easy.

Alex is well aware of that. It’s why he’s had such an easy time finding more about his dad’s work. His father doesn’t understand or appreciate any of what Alex does. Considers it weak. He doesn’t understand the way the world works now. And Alex plans on using that to his advantage. “Yeah, well, one of the other facilities got a pretty bad virus on their computers. Research had to be completely stopped there until they addressed it,” Alex continues his lie. “I’m useful to Dad right now. Nothing more.”

“So he finally used Michael Guerin to reel you in, huh?” Flint asks.

Alex isn’t certain he’s hidden his flinch at the mention of Michael, but he tries to cover it with a shrug. So Flint knew about Michael. He wonders if that means Harlan and Hunter do as well. If they’re all potential threats to Michael. He’s surprised it’s taken this long for it to come out, considering the way Flint always did love to lord things over him. “And what did he use on you?”

“We’re protecting Americans from freaks,” Flint answers simply. But it’s obviously not that simple. It never is with Jesse Manes. Flint may enjoy torture, may be a bigot, but their father always needs leverage. He needs to know, without a doubt, that he can control everyone around him. It’s the way he’s always worked. He has something on Flint.

Still, Alex doesn’t push. This isn’t the time for that. He can figure it out later, if the need arises. He needs to focus on creating a backdoor into this system so he can access everything remotely with no one left the wiser. And he needs to do it fast.

* * *

Michael is searching through the halls, trying to find information without running into anyone, when he comes upon the cells. There have to be twenty vampires, each locked in an individual cell behind a thick plate of glass.

All different ages. Some look healthy, if a bit malnourished. Others are worn down, sick, skin and bones, and clearly injured. After a moment, he spots the children in some of the cells, hidden behind the adults, their innocent faces filled with fear, the adults faces just numb. Resigned.

He needs to do something. Needs to stop this, to get them all out of here. Now.

And, just as he’s thinking that, he sees her. He recognizes her within an instant. She’s twenty years older than she was the last time he saw her and the years haven’t been kind, but her eyes look exactly the same.

He thought it was just a half-remembered dream, a wish for a family, for someone who loved and wanted him. But he can remember it more clearly now. Her kneeling in front of him in the desert sand, holding onto his upper arms, her voice strangely alluring. She was _influencing_ him. “You will take Max and Isobel with you. And you will run. You will hide who you are. Live among the humans as if you are one of them. Let them raise you and care for you. And you will forget all of us. Now go!”

She had sent him away. From this? He had a family. He had been loved. He had a mother who wanted to protect him and he needs to get her out of here. To protect her from the people she protected him from two decades ago.

He scrambles for the first heavy thing he can find. He needs to save his mom. He needs to get her out of here, away from Jesse Manes, away from the humans who would do this to her, to them. He reaches for a fire extinguisher, swinging it with all his might at the glass. Once. Twice. A third time. And then the glass finally starts to crack and sirens fill the air.

* * *

“Do you think she’ll be okay?” Maria asks as she watches her mother wander around the community area, talking to the other residents, holding their hands and brushing gentle fingers through their hair, fingers Maria can so easily remember in her own when she was a child, making her feel far less self-conscious about all the ways she was different from all the other kids in Roswell.

“Yeah,” Kyle replies softly. “I think she will. I don’t think she’ll get better. That’s not how this works. But she’s safe here. And she has so many people around her. You know she needs that.”

Maria smiles sadly. Kyle is right. Maria couldn’t provide the socialization her mother needed and keep the bar running. She couldn’t care for her mother like she needed, not really. But it was hard to admit that, hard to admit that her mother wasn’t okay and she couldn’t fix it. She has all these abilities. She still wonders if she had just worked harder, if she would have just let her mother teach her everything, rather than running off and partying with Rosa or sneaking around with Isobel, if she would have been able to help her mother. But she’s not. She hasn’t learned and she’s far too weak and inexperienced. She has to let it go.

“Will you be okay?” he asks her.

And that’s the question Maria is stuck on. She knows she _needs_ to move on. She needs to make sure her mother is safe. She needs to figure out what she wants to do with her life. If she really wants to run The Wild Pony or if she’s just holding on to it like she’s holding onto so many things from her past, Isobel most of all. And that’s what she needs to let go of most. That relationship, if their secret affair could even be called that, ended ten years ago. Isobel has been married for another five. It’s _over_. It’s time to move on.

“I hope so.”

* * *

“We’ve gotta get out of here,” Flint says, scrambling to grab plans and files, anything he can get his hands on. “This entire place is rigged to blow within ten minutes if one of the subjects tries to escape and I guess one of them decided to be brave today.” And Flint is out of the door.

Alex grabs the hard drive, aware the data isn’t done transferring and maybe his work hacking into the system is less than elegant, but he’s in and he’ll take what he has. He shoves the hard drive in his backpack and heads out the door himself, trying to figure out where Michael would have gone.

He moves down the hall as fast as his leg will let him, aware Michael can’t have gotten anywhere more secure than they are now. So he heads back to where they separated and hurries down the hall where Michael had escaped.

It ends at a flight of stairs and he sighs, grabbing onto them tightly with his free hand, hauling himself forward and up, wincing at the impact each time his prosthetic hits the unforgiving metal. His hip is aching and, if he manages to get out of here, he’ll probably be stuck on bedrest for a fucking week, but he can’t think about that now as he climbs to the second floor, relieved to spot Michael’s mess of curls through the door to that floor. He flings it open, hobbling towards him as fast as he can.

“We have to go, Guerin,” he says instantly. “This whole place is going to go up in a matter of minutes.”

When his eyes meet Alex’s, he can see that Michael is more heartbroken and lost than he’s ever been in Alex’s presence. “They’re my family, Alex. I’m not leaving them.”

Alex curses as he digs out his phone, rushing toward the cell with the cracked door, falling to his knees on the unforgiving floor in front of the access panel, biting back a cry of pain. He knows what he needs to do and he’ll have time to deal with the pain and consequences later. If it works. If it doesn’t, well, he won’t be around to feel that pain anyway.

“What are you doing?” Michael asks, his voice sounding panicked.

Alex doesn’t look up, eyes on his phone. He desperately wants to comfort Michael, wants to focus on him and his fears, but he doesn’t have time. “You said they’re your family.”

“Yeah, so? You should be getting out of here, Alex! You need to get out of here!”

“They’re your family, Michael,” Alex’s voice doesn’t shake, even though he’s fighting off tears as he speaks. “And you’re mine.”

* * *

“They’re your family, Michael,” Alex says, voice frustratingly calm as always. Michael is about to curse at him, to get the hell out of here before he dies with Michael and his family. “And you’re mine.”

Michael reels backward as if he’s been slapped. Everything he’s ever wanted to hear from Alex and of course he has to tell him this now. Now when the building is about to come down around them.

Alex is going to die with Michael and the rest of them if he doesn’t do something and Michael _knows_ Alex won’t leave without him. He’s stubborn and frustrating and so fucking self-sacrificing Michael can’t stand it. And he loves him. He can’t let Alex die.

So he reaches down and pulls Alex to his feet, well aware he’s not being gentle enough, well aware that he’s probably hurting him, but they have to hurry.

“Michael, I was trying to override the-” Alex starts.

“Do it from outside,” he replies, grabbing Alex’s hand and tugging him along with him, trying to go slow enough that Alex can keep up.

They stumble down the stairs, Michael only slowing enough that Alex doesn’t fall. And then it’s down the hall, feet pounding on the concrete, and out three sets of doors before they’re outside, the sun hitting them punishingly.

He drags Alex with him behind a bus, wanting so badly to slow down, to take care of him, to not hurt him. He hopes Alex will forgive him for this, but at least he’ll be alive.

And, once they’re on the ground, Alex is back on his phone, typing as fast as he can and Michael is peeling up his jeans, glad these are loose enough.

“I’m fine,” Alex says, voice harsh with pain, but, clearly, he doesn’t want Michael’s ministrations, so- “Come here,” he interrupts Michael’s thought, free hand waving him forward, eyes still on the phone. Alex doesn’t look, but he guides Michael to bury his face against his shoulder as he returns to typing with both hands, as fast as he possibly can.

He’s holding his breath when the explosion comes, the heat knocking both of them forward, the sound overwhelming.

The rest of the world disappears around Michael as he stands, turning to look at the wreckage that had once housed the only family he had ever managed to find.

* * *

Liz finds herself knocking on Max’s door, two cups of coffee in hand. Might as well get this over with.

When he answers the door, he just smiles that devastating smile at her and she really wishes he’d stop doing that. They need to _talk_. She needs to _not_ react to him. Even after everything.

“I brought coffee,” she says, offering him a cup, stepping inside and taking a sip, walking toward his living room and trusting that he’ll follow. “You wanted to talk?”

It’s easier for her to think when she’s not looking at him. When she doesn’t have to see those puppy dog eyes and the way he always looks at her like she’s special to him.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said,” Max starts while she sits in one of his chairs, sinking into the leather. “I can’t apologize for protecting Isobel. She’s my sister. And I love her. But I am sorry I let the town think that about Rosa. That I let _you_ believe that Rosa did that. You deserved better. You deserved answers and explanations long ago. And… I wish I could fix it all. I wish I could make this entire town treat you and your father with the respect they give to me and Isobel. I’m sorry I didn’t see it or get what you’re going through. I still probably don’t. But I’m willing to listen and learn.”

Liz nods. She truly didn’t expect Max to apologize for protecting Isobel. She just wishes that he had protected her sister too. That Rosa hadn’t taken the fall. But she supposes she’ll have to live with it.

And then there’s the other issue. The other thing that has been nagging at her. Her dad says Max has done everything he can to protect him, but she doesn’t know if she can let all the other families he doesn’t protect go. She doesn’t know if she can forget about that, as much as she wants to.

“And working with ICE?” she asks.

“I hate that part of my job. I know most immigrants aren’t dangerous.”

“But you toe the company line. You echo their rhetoric. You let people think that families like mine are responsible for the crime. My parents just wanted a better life. They gave me opportunities I’d never have. That’s all they wanted. And you’re tearing apart families like mine every day.

“You say you want to protect people, to help people, Max. But who are you really protecting? Who are you helping?”

* * *

Maria’s home is too empty without her mother puttering around, working on jewelry, drawing, singing along to the songs stuck in her head.

It’s so quiet and empty and Maria hates it. This place where her mother had raised her, where they had impromptu dance parties in the living room, long talks about boys, and, later, girls, in the kitchen… It feels empty, even filled with all the ghosts of Maria’s happy childhood.

She can’t stay here. Not right now. She wants to go to Isobel’s, knows she’s alone too right now. But she can’t. Instead, she calls Alex. The call goes straight to voicemail, so she speaks, “I can’t be at home right now, so I’m going to crash with you. I’ll be there in an hour. And I’ll be bringing tequila. I expect you to drink with me tonight and tell me more about this mysterious Museum Guy.” She desperately needs the distraction and, while Liz has been gone, even since she’s come home, Alex has been trying to repair the friendship that has grown strained over the past ten years of deployments. Plus, outside of her mom, he and Liz are the closest to home she can have right now.

So she packs up a bag and heads towards Alex’s cabin on the outskirts of Roswell, hoping he’ll be there when she arrives.

* * *

"Is that really what you think of me, Liz?" Max asked, stunned and hurt that she could possibly see him that way.

"NO!" Liz responds, pacing back and forth. "I don't. I don't want to. I still remember you as the most compassionate boy I've ever known. And I don't know what happened to that boy."

“That isn’t why I joined the force, you know, Liz,” Max insists, desperate to make her understand how much he hates that part of his job. “I wanted to help people like Rosa. People who need someone to reach out and offer them help. I wanted to help people like your dad who _is_ the target for so much undeserved hate. I got into the job to help victims of crime, to help addicts, to _stop_ things like this. But it all changed around me. You lost your job because of the current occupant of the White House. Mine changed. From helping victims of violent crime and trying to keep people safe to detaining people whose worst crime was crossing an arbitrary line and tearing families apart. And I’m trying to do the best I can to do the least harm possible until it changes back.”

He sees Liz freeze, stunned by the force of his response. He wishes he could read her expression, wishes he could show her _exactly_ what he had been focused on when he had any say in it. But he can’t. He can’t show her the domestic abuse victims he’s spent so much time and effort getting to talk. He can’t show her the homeless people he helped find a shelter. And, as much as they all know who targets her father, well, none of them have anything to show for that because certain people are too well connected. But he _has_ tried to do the right thing.

* * *

The drive home to Roswell is completely silent. And it’s a long one. More than four hours in a car to ruminate on how he failed the man he loves. Alex leans against the window and tries not to watch Michael, instead focusing on running down all the ways it could have ended differently, all the things he should have done instead. He should have gone on his own. Or maybe brought Kyle or Liz on reconnaissance with him, rather than risking Michael’s safety. If he had brought his laptop, he would have typed faster. He would have been able to save them.

He should have stayed there in the building instead of leaving Michael’s family behind to die.

Alex has always carried pain and suffering with him in his wake. Everyone he loves suffers. He shouldn’t have come home at all. Michael would be safe and happier if he hadn’t come back. His family, those vampires, those _children_ he had seen locked up in those cells, they’d all still be alive. Maybe not free. But they’d have a chance. Now they’re all gone.

He’s responsible for the death of at least twenty people. Michael’s family. The family he _knows_ Michael has always longed for.

When Michael pulls up outside his cabin, he stumbles out of the truck, leg no longer wanting to bear his weight.

Maria is there on the cabin porch, running over to him and catching him, and he can sense her about to tear Michael apart, but he stops her with a hand on her arm.

Michael doesn’t even turn to look at him as he closes the door. And he watches the man he loves drive away without so much as a backward glance.

* * *

“I’m sorry, Liz,” Max says. “I’m sorry for all the mistakes I’ve made. I love you. And I really hoped that would be enough. But I’ve hurt you time and time again and-”

“You don’t love me!” Liz interrupts, panic fighting to the surface. He can’t. She can’t let him love her. She _wants_, but she’s not ready. “You don’t even know me. You love the idea of me!”

“No, it’s you, Liz,” he argues. She desperately wants to object, but he continues before she can speak. “You’re so focused that the world around you disappears and I don’t just want to be the object of that focus. I want to understand the beauty of the thing that pulls all your focus. You’re so smart and driven, but you shut out the rest of the world with that singular focus and that’s annoying as hell for someone outside of it all. But I love it. And I still want to understand it.

“And you’re angry. You have every reason to be and I know the world around you has failed you, but you’re not perfect, Liz. You’re not some perfect idea that I love. You weren’t when we were teenagers, as much as you tried to be. And you aren’t now. You’re flawed.

“You don’t let go of anything. You’re single minded to the point of obsession. You shut everyone out and I get why. But it’s so frustrating because I want to care for you. And I’m not the only one. You’ve shut your father out, you’ve shut your friends out, you’ve run away from everyone who cares about you, but I still love you. And I’m fine continuing to love you from afar. It’s not about me. It’s you. So you can leave again and travel halfway across the country to escape it, but I’ll still love you.”

His declaration takes her breath away. And all she can do is reach out and pull him toward her, pull him down until his lips are against hers.

And then he’s picking her up and carrying her to his couch, one large hand tangling with her long, dark hair, the other holding her close.

He sits down without interrupting their kiss and Liz finds herself wondering why she wasted so much time she could have spent kissing Max Evans.

She pulls away after a minute, realizing there’s something she still has to tell him. If they’re going to start this thing right. “I found some things. Or, rather, Alex and Kyle found some things. It looks like Jesse Manes knows what you, Isobel, and Michael are. And he’s been… Experimenting on vampires. I… You deserve to know. So you can get out of here maybe?” It’s not like she wants him to leave, not when she’s finally decided to stay. Not when she finally knows what it’s like to kiss him.

She is pleasantly surprised when he tells her, “I’m not leaving, Liz. Roswell is my home. I love it here. I love the people. We can handle Jesse Manes, if it comes down to it.”

* * *

It takes a frustratingly long time for Isobel to narrow it down. The list is long because she doesn’t have an exact make or model and she wants to find people who owned that car in 2008. People with a New Mexico license plate.

She’s going through the list slowly but surely, trying to figure out who would have been in Roswell that day, trying to find a vampire on the list, someone who moves around often because they feed on humans. Someone who is good at picking victims.

And then she finds the answer she never would have expected, but that, in retrospect, should have been painfully obvious to her.

Jesse Manes.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you as always to my amazing beta and friend, [InsidiousIntent](https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsidiousIntent/pseuds/InsidiousIntent), who made this fic so much better with her excellent advice. Thanks as well to my wonderful friend, Beka, whose excitement about this kept me from panicking and deleting it all.

Maria has never seen Alex like this. He’s always so put together. She can usually sense the pain beneath the surface, but he always hides it so well. Now he’s all pain. He may not be showing it, not really; he’s completely withdrawn into himself, but it’s like being caught in a tsunami. She can feel the self-loathing, the self-blame. It’s like his world is ending.

She’s going to kill Michael Guerin for whatever he’s done to Alex. He may be Isobel’s brother, but her friends come first. And Alex has had far too much pain in his life.

She manages to get him inside and on the couch before she’s dialing Kyle, apologizing for waking him because she _knows_ he was going straight to bed after helping her with her mom, and telling him what’s going on with Alex.

But he promises he’ll be there soon, so she returns her attention to Alex.

“What happened?” she asks, reaching for his hands, trying to get the connection she needs for more than just the overwhelming pain Alex feels.

He pulls away, “Don’t read me right now, Maria,” his tone is deadly serious, not the usual lightness she’s come to expect from her friend.

“Alex.”

His face is blank. And that scares her. No effort at all to hide anything. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not though. What did Michael Guerin do to you?” she asks.

Alex’s eyes finally meet hers and she gasps and the sheer agony right there on the surface, “Nothing. He didn’t- It was me. I just… I’m always going to hurt him. I’m… He shouldn’t come near me. He’d be happier if he stayed away.”

“Okay, I’m getting the tequila and you’re going to tell me exactly what happened between you and Guerin.”

She walks outside, grabs the bottle off the steps, and carries it inside, taking a quick swig. Then she offers it to Alex.

He doesn’t even move in response. She wonders how quickly Kyle can get here. Because she doesn’t know how to handle this.

* * *

Liz is halfway through a very late dinner with Max after a very enjoyable evening when Isobel and Michael storm in.

“I have answers,” Isobel announces.

“Answers?” Liz asks, unsure what the hell Isobel is talking about and why she’s here at all.

“Yeah. About Kate and Jessica. And maybe Rosa.”

“Of course Max told you about that,” Liz gives him a look, letting him know that this is one of the many things they still have to talk about.

“Yes. Of course my brother told me that a human knows what we are. And that I may have done something that I don’t remember doing,” Isobel’s tone is harsh. “I didn’t, by the way. Just so you aren’t tempted to kill me.”

“I don’t want to kill you, Isobel,” Liz turns her attention back to her.

“I would,” Isobel says, tone completely the same as before. And that takes Liz’s breath away. She never expected that Isobel Evans of all people had a conscience.

Liz wonders whether or not she should leave right now. Go home. Give them the time they obviously need to discuss their sibling issues. But Max’s hand on her arm stills her, calms her desire to flee. Even though Isobel is smiling at her like a shark. Like she can smell blood. And Michael looks like he’s going to blow up any second.

“I figured it out,” Isobel directs them back to her original declaration.

“Hello, Max. Nice to see you, Max. How are you doing, Max?” Max responds with the irritation that one could only have for a beloved sibling.

“Yes. Sorry. I forgot my pleasantries,” Isobel snarks at him. “I figured out who killed Kate and Jasmine. Or abducted them, anyway. And Rosa too.”

“Are you waiting for an invitation from us, or are you actually going to tell us?” Michael asks her.

“Jesse Manes.”

* * *

Alex can’t stop thinking about it. About what he’s done. He’s been responsible for the deaths of innocent people before. Those vampires are just a tiny fraction. And he’s made mistakes that have caused people to die. This is nothing new. It should be nothing new. He’s always brought death and destruction in his wake. The smartest people, people like his mom, got out before he could ruin them.

But this is the second time that has touched Michael. He spent an entire decade running away from him except for brief, perfect moments, untouched by the outside world. It shouldn’t surprise him that, the instant he decides to stop running away, to run _towards_ something for once, Michael loses the chance to have a family. Because of _him_.

He wants to tell Maria to get out, to get away from him before he hurts her too. He can’t. But he won’t let her see everything. He doesn’t want her to see what a monster he is.

“Alex, talk to me, man,” Kyle is saying, kneeling down on the floor in front of him, examining his leg. “What happened?”

“I did,” Alex answers simply. He can see the alarmed looks between Maria and Kyle. They don’t understand. _This_ is the Manes family legacy. _This_ is what he was born into.

“You said Guerin dropped him off?” Kyle asks.

“Yeah. He looked furious.”

“Because they’re all dead. And it’s my fault,” Alex says softly.

Kyle and Maria manage to pry the story out of him. And it’s a relief to share it, even though some part of him knows he should be doing a lot more explaining it all for Maria than he is. Oddly, just saying it clarifies so much for him. Though he’s still certain Michael should stay away from him, if only to stay away from all the damage his family does to those who dare to love them. His mom was the first victim of that.

“You aren’t like your father, Alex,” Maria says softly, squeezing his hand. “If Guerin is worth anything, he’ll understand that.” She pauses before she says, “He’s been a mess these past ten years. Drinking nonstop, picking fights. I think he’s doing better now that you’re in town.”

“But I-”

“Just talk to him, Alex,” Kyle suggests. “That helped before, right?”

He nods. They’re right. He at least owes Michael a conversation. He promised they were in this together and he owes him more than disappearing. For good this time. He can tell Michael what he wants. And, if Michael is repulsed by him like Alex thinks he should be, he can leave. He has options.

So he asks, “I left my car there. Can one of you drop me off?”

“I’ve had too much to drink,” Maria says. And it’s true. Now that he’s looking, he can see she’s finished an impressive amount of that bottle of tequila she brought with her. “And I was hoping on having a fun sleepover distraction with you. Like in high school.” He’s about to speak, when she says, “Rain check on that. You go talk to Michael. But, if you don’t mind, I’m going to crash on the couch?”

Alex nods, handing her his key. “If I’m not here by the time you leave, I’ll pick it up at the Pony.”

“Optimistic, aren’t we?” Maria asks.

“Worried he might have gone on a real bender, actually,” Alex answers.

* * *

This is all far too much for one day and Michael just wants to run away into a bottle, but he’s forcing himself to stay while Max works out what’s now plainly obvious to him.

“So, you know Jesse Manes took them, but how did they end up-” Max starts to ask.

“He had a bunch of people like us trapped. He was running experiments on them,” Michael answers for Isobel, trying to control the pain in his voice. He can’t afford to think about that right now. He needs to focus.

“Yeah, I saw those results. He must have pumped Kate and Jessica full of drugs and fed them to some of these… people? But what about Rosa? If he had her, is she…?” Liz asks.

“Probably didn’t kill her because she mattered to Alex. Same reason why he never went after you,” Max says, gesturing at Michael, who can’t help but respond with a dark laugh. He knows better than that.

“He didn’t let me stay out here out of the goodness of his heart. He was using me to control Alex.” He was still getting used to that. The thought that maybe Alex had cared after all. He’s not sure he knows _how_ to be loved. Sure as hell never had it from anyone but Max and Isobel. He was supposed to have it from his mom, but- He does his best to shove his grief down again. He needs to be strong for Max and Isobel.

They’re all silent for a moment, until Liz says, “That makes a lot of sense, actually. He must have let Rosa live to control Jim Valenti.”

That throws him. He hadn’t expected it at all. “Why would Rosa…?”

“He was her father,” Liz says. And Michael knows better than to say what he thinks next. He knows that will likely earn him a punch from Max.

Isobel, however, holds no such reservations, “Which means she’s probably dead now.”

“So how do we deal with this?” Liz asks. “I don’t think Jesse Manes will be easily arrested. Or that Isobel’s repressed memories would do anything for a conviction.”

“We’re going to have to kill him,” Max answers, like it’s simple.

“Fuck, no,” Michael interrupts. “He’s a monster and he deserves to die bloody, but he’s Alex’s father. We’re not taking Alex’s family from him. Think of something else!” He can’t do that to Alex. He just lost his own family. He can’t put Alex through the same thing, even if his father is partly responsible for killing Michael’s family.

“He’s a threat to all of us, Michael!” Max argues angrily. “We will put him down. And it’ll be over.”

Michael rolls his eyes, “You’re so fucking naive, Max. It’ll never be over. That thing I saw, that wasn’t run by one man. No way in hell. We kill him, they’ll all come after us. We lay low, think things through, come up with a reasonable plan,” he says, heading toward the door. He needs to go talk to Alex. To tell him what he’s learned. He made Alex promise that they’d do this together and he sure as hell will stick to that promise too.

He ignores Max and Isobel calling after him and strides out into the night, towards his truck.

He’s opening the door when he feels a sharp pain in his neck. And he knows instantly that the cool blood that keeps him alive, that he constantly has to replenish, is rushing out. He presses his hand over his neck instinctively, but it doesn’t help. And he’s stumbling, falling to his knees, hitting the dirt. He looks up at the night sky as, one by one, the stars fade away.

* * *

Alex is silent in the passenger seat. And Kyle knows it’s his responsibility to speak, to say what he’s thinking. “Maybe you should see a therapist?” he suggests.

“Already seeing one,” Alex replies distantly. And then, a moment later, tone more present, “I’ll see if I can set up an emergency appointment.”

“Good. And I think you should take a break from our dad’s files. I can take over for a while. Liz has been helping.”

“You’re probably right. I need to focus on Michael. If he’ll let me.”

“And yourself.”

Kyle can practically hear the eyeroll, “And myself.” He’s silent for a moment before he asks, tone careful, “How are you dealing with all of that? It can’t be easy finding out everything about your dad.”

“He helped hunt down and experiment on vampires. I keep on trying to find an excuse for that. A reason that it’s not as bad as it sounds.”

“Sometimes people are just doing what they’re told.”

“Some of the biggest atrocities in history have been largely people doing what they’re told,” Kyle points out.

Alex is silent for a moment. “My dad is a monster. Your dad just got caught up in it. My dad can be very good at controlling people.”

“Good thing I decided to talk to you instead.”

He can see Alex shrug out of the corner of his eye. “If your dad tried to get out of it, I’m sure mine found something to use as leverage. Something to keep him in it.”

Kyle decides to change the subject. “Liz and I were talking about looking into a bunker mentioned in the files? It’s here in Roswell. Do you know how I can get into it?”

Alex is pulling his phone out of his pocket, swiping it unlocked with his thumb print. “I’ve already found my way into their system. I’ll send you a program to run. It’ll trick all the locks into opening and thinking you’re my dad.” He explains in detail how Kyle should hook his phone into the system and Kyle hopes he’ll be able to remember all of this.

Alex is typing away at his phone when he freezes, muttering the word, “Fuck” under his breath.

“What’s going on, dude?” Kyle asks, not wanting to tear his eyes away from the road, but worried about whatever Alex has found.

“My dad never got on the plane to Niger. He’s still around here somewhere.” Kyle can hear him dialing, hears the other line ringing. “You should be fine. He doesn’t know you’re involved. Just… Be careful?” And then he mutters to his phone, “Fuck, Guerin, pick up your phone.”

* * *

Isobel waits until after Michael has left before asking, “What do you want us to do, Liz?”

Liz isn’t certain what she wants. She doesn’t want to be a killer, doesn’t want to be responsible for taking a human life. She already feels sick about having hunted vampires. Now that she knows that they are capable of living without killing. But she also knows she can’t leave Jesse to torture and kill any more people. He needs to be stopped.

She’s about to ask for more time when she hears a phone ringing loudly outside. It just keeps going until it stops.

“He never answers,” Isobel rolls her eyes.

It starts up again instantly and Liz realizes that Michael has had more than enough time to reach his truck and she hasn’t heard it start. So she heads slowly for the door, looking for anything she can use for a weapon. Just in case. “Shouldn’t he have driven away by now?” she asks the twins.

She’s barely through the question when Max and Isobel barrel past her, shoving through the door and into the night.

She follows close behind, finding Michael Guerin laying on his back on the ground, a shard of glass next to him, a gaping wound in his throat and blood soaking into the dirt around him.

She claps her hand over her mouth in horror, barely taking in the commotion around her.

That is, until Max is dragging Jesse Manes towards them. And Isobel ducks down into her line of vision, “Please, Liz. I promised myself I’d let you decide what you wanted. But.. Please let us save my brother?”

Liz just nods. And, when she realizes what they’re about to do, she turns, closing her eyes, covering her ears, wishing she could drown out the sounds that she’s afraid will be imprinted on her memory forever.

* * *

Jesse’s body drops to the ground once Michael is done and Max knows he’ll have to do something about that sooner rather than later, but… He lives out in the middle of nowhere, so, for now he’ll just move the body out of sight.

Isobel’s attention is on Michael and Max’s certain that, with everything that’s gone on between them, all the distance, perhaps that’s better. What matters is that his brother is okay.

So he turns his own attention to Liz, stepping in front of her. Her eyes are closed tight, hands over her ears.

He’s thankful that they caught Jesse, that they were able to get him to Michael so quickly. Because he knows that wouldn’t have killed him. Michael would have been frozen like that until they found someone, anyone, to help him. Anyone for him to feed off of.

But he can’t help but feel guilty for making Liz witness it.

He taps her arm lightly, watching her hands fall away from her ears and her eyes open. She looks so calm. Too calm. Max is certain she must be in shock. He’s sure it won’t be long before she realizes fully what he is. It won’t be long until she’s terrified of him.

When she finally meets his eyes, he asks her, “Can I drive you home? Make sure you get there safe?”

Liz just shakes her head, “I drove my own car here. I can get home by myself, Max.”

“I know you can,” he reassures her. He knows Liz is smart and capable, but he doubts he’ll get the sounds Jesse Manes made as he was dying out of his head any time soon and, Liz, well, she’s far better than he ever could be. “Would you mind if I follow you? Just to reassure myself that you’ve gotten home safe.”

She’s silent for a moment, but finally, she nods. “Sure.” She pauses halfway to her car and turns to him again. “Will you come with me tomorrow to check out this bunker nearby? Kyle and I found it when we were looking through the files. I just… Need to know what we’ve gotten ourselves into. Maybe there’ll be more answers there?”

So she’s not afraid of him after all. At least not yet. “I’ll be there.”

“Good,” she responds, climbing into her car.

Max spends the ride following her car in silence. He stops in front of the Crashdown, watching her climb out of her own car and unlock the door to the restaurant. She turns around to wave at him before she steps inside and locks it behind her. He waits until he sees her bedroom light turn on before he pulls away and heads back home.

* * *

“I know you want to talk to Alex,” Isobel follows Michael to his truck, “But you are coming back to my place first.”

“Is-”

“No. You have next to no water pressure at yours and you are… Just, really gross.” She wrinkles her nose, reaching out but not quite touching. She’s not sure anywhere is clean enough to touch. “He does not need you coming to him in the middle of the night covered in blood.” She pauses, “You can wear one of Noah’s shirts. He forgot a few.”

It’s not just that, of course. They’re not exactly the emotional conversation types, but she’s well aware that Michael has had an especially traumatic day, even before the shard of glass in his neck. And he needs to take a step back, let some of it out rather than heaping another probably difficult conversation onto all of it.

He finally agrees and follows her to her house. It’s comforting for her to see Michael’s truck following her car, to know that he’s there. She’s been alone for a matter of days and she’s already tired of it. She doesn’t complain when he follows her into the house with muddy boots, not bothering to take them off. She’ll deal with that later.

They’re inside for less than a minute when he speaks. “He’s not going to forgive me, Is. Not for this.” She’s surprised to hear Michael opening up to her of his own accord.

“You don’t know that,” she argues. She can’t see how Alex would be happier with Michael practically dead and his dad on the loose, probably hunting them all. But, then again, she’s only seen bits and pieces of Michael’s relationship. And she barely knows Alex at all.

“I fucked up,” Michael scrubs a hand over his face, dried blood flaking off his hand as he does so. It’s not the right time for it and she knows it, but Isobel idly considers having new carpet installed in the entire house. “I found my mom. And then I fucked up and got her and a whole bunch of other vampires killed. And now it’s my fault Alex’s father is dead and I don’t-”

She can hear the panic rising in his voice and the tears starting, so she interrupts him by grabbing him and dragging him to her couch, pulling him to sob against her chest. She’ll deal with the bloodstains later. Maybe by burning the couch.

She lets him sob himself out while she tries to soothe him, like he did for her after Noah left. She wonders when and if she’ll ever see him again. And what she will do if she doesn’t. When do you let go of a marriage? And does she even want to fight for this one?

* * *

Maria is asleep when the pounding comes on the door. She stumbles off the couch and onto her feet, upending the thankfully capped bottle of tequila in her haste to get there. Her head is pounding and her mouth is dry. And Alex should be dealing with this, but, well, he never came home. She hopes that’s a good thing.

But, to her surprise, Michael Guerin is standing at the door, looking like a complete mess and wearing a shirt that is most definitely too nice to be his. “I need to talk to Alex,” he says instantly.

“I gathered as much. He’s not here.” Michael is starting to turn and head back to his truck, when she says, “He really loves you, you know.” He stops still, so she continues. “Alex doesn’t open up easily. I’ve seen him fall apart maybe twice. Once, when Rosa died. The second when you dropped him off here.” She pauses, “You’re the guy who kissed him at the UFO Emporium, aren’t you?”

Michael’s voice is barely there when he responds, “You know about that?”

“He wouldn’t tell me who it was. I thought-” she takes a deep, shaky breath. “I thought it was some guy who was experimenting with him. Who wanted him to keep it secret. I honestly thought it was just some crush Alex hadn’t gotten over. But now I’m starting to wonder if you’re just jerking him around for some reason.”

“Were you just experimenting with Isobel?” Michael retorts, anger clearly rising to the surface. “Are you just jerking her around?”

“I love your sister. But she’s married,” Maria refuses to back down or back off. “I can’t-” she cuts herself off. “If you _do_ love Alex, tell him.”

“It’s not that simple,” he sounds exhausted. And Maria is certain that, in his mind, that’s true

“It _is_. If you don’t love him, end things with him now. For good. Let him find someone who can love him the way he deserves.” She takes note of the myriad of facial expressions he makes at that. Jealousy, hurt, sorrow. She knows she just needs to keep pushing. He loves Alex. And Alex deserves to be happy. One of them deserves to get their happy ending, as much as anyone can. “If I see him hurting like this again because of you, I will cut off your favorite appendage,” she threatens, well aware she won’t have to make good on that threat.

“I wasn’t experimenting with him,” Michael answers softly. “I’m bi. And, for the record, I never wanted to keep it a secret. I’ve been in love with Alex since I was seventeen years old. But… He keeps walking away. And maybe he’s right to.”

“You’re an idiot,” Maria replies, rolling her eyes. “I mean, you’re right that you don’t deserve him. I have to seriously question Alex’s taste in men. But…” She sighs, “He’s not walking away. I very much doubt he ever really did. He’s waiting for you at your Airstream. To fight for you.”

Michael starts to walk toward the truck again, hesitates, and turns, “Maria? Isobel still loves you.”

“I think, in this case, love just isn’t enough, Guerin.”

* * *

Isobel has been staring at her phone for the last ten minutes, considering. Planning. She knows she should wait until morning, but maybe she needs to say this now, while she still has the courage to do so.

She’s been thinking about her brothers, how they’ve followed her advice but she’s failed in that regard. They’re trying to be themselves, to be honest with the people they love. They’re choosing to live as they are, rather than this perfect Pinterest life Isobel has modeled for herself off of what her parents have. What she thought she was supposed to want.

Some part of her does love Noah. He’s not her first love, not passion, excitement, magic. He’s safe and kind. He’s good. Better than she deserves, if she’s being honest with herself. And he loves her. Loved her. Maybe, if they work at it… Maybe he can love her for who she truly is.

Finally, she grabs her phone, dialing, holding it to her ear.

Voicemail. What she expected, considering how late it is.

“Noah, it’s me. Isobel. I… I’m sorry I hid everything from you. I think I hid a lot from myself too. And I want to… I want to figure out who I am. With you, if you’re still interested. I want to try to let you know who I am. I want to see if we work. But I understand if there’s too many lies and too much pain between us. Please just… Call me and let me know? If you don’t want me anymore, I think I deserve to know. I love you.”

She hangs up and sets her phone down, considering who else she owes the truth to.

* * *

“Oh thank god,” Alex says the instant Michael steps through the door. “My dad never got on that flight to Niger and he’s probably out there looking for you right now and why do you never answer your phone?” It’s rare to hear Alex talking this much, so Michael just leans against the door and lets him continue. He’s not quite ready to hurt him yet. “And I guess that’s beside the point.” Michael watches as he takes a deep breath in, pushing it out on the exhale like he’s forcing it past those perfect lips.

“I needed to tell you… I meant what I said back there, Guerin. You’re my family. So I completely understand if you blame me for everything that happened there and I can get out of your way if that’s what you need, but I just-” He shakes his head, like he’s trying to make the words come out right. “I need you to know that I love you. And I’m here. If you want me to be. If you don’t… I’ll be around.”

Michael makes his way towards Alex, who is perched on his bed. “I don’t want you to go anywhere, Alex,” he replies. He knows what he needs to tell Alex. And he needs to do it before someone else finds out and tells him. “Your dad already found me. At Max’s house. Isobel and Liz were there too.”

“Are you okay? Are they okay?”

Michael kneels on the floor in front of him, reaching for his hands, “He- I-”

But Alex’s brow is furrowing and he’s taking Michael’s left hand in both of his, tracing the smooth, healed skin, examining it thoroughly before looking up to meet Michael’s eyes. And he feels pinned there, beneath his dark gaze, waiting for Alex to piece it all together and push him away.

“This was my dad?” he asks, tone even.

Michael just nods.

“And Max, Isobel, and Liz? Are they okay?”

He nods again, waiting for the inevitable.

“I’m sorry,” Alex says, voice gentle, eyes sad. Michael almost falls backward in shock, but Alex continues. “He should have been in Niger. He shouldn’t have been able to come after you. But I fucked up and… I trusted that he would go. I didn’t see how big this was and he could have _killed_ you.”

Michael’s wet laugh is the only thing that stops him on his recrimination tour. “Darlin’, none of that is your fault.”

“I should have-”

“No. You did everything you could. You tried to protect me. You tried to save my… You tried to stop what happened back there.”

“I didn’t do enough,” Alex objects.

“You did more for me than anyone has ever done before,” Michael admits. And then he asks, “You’re not angry at me about your father?”

Alex reaches for Michael, thumbs tracing his cheekbones, eyes taking him in as he says, “I know my father. It was him or you. I’m just glad you’re okay.” He pauses, giving Michael a sad smile. “I _was_ coming here to figure _us_ out, but maybe this isn’t the right time?”

Michael hates to admit it, but Alex is right. Yes, he wants to bury his pain in the delicious feel of Alex’s skin against his own, but he knows how that ends. And, if Alex truly wants to start over, he’s not going to risk that for _comfort_. “I’m not… With everything that happened, I can’t really do the _us_ thing right now. I want to. But I’m not…”

Alex saves him with, “You’re not ready for a relationship right now?”

Michael nods tiredly.

“Got it. Let me know when you are? I’ll be here.”

Michael knows he should say he can’t ask Alex to wait, but Alex seems to be offering and fuck if he’s not grateful to know he’s not losing him because he’s telling him what he needs. He’s sure that, if he were losing Alex, he’d take back everything he said, insist he’s ready. Because he doesn’t think he can handle Alex leaving again.

Alex reaches for his cane, but Michael stills his hand on it, “Stay?” He’s not sure he’s prepared for the nightmares that are sure to come. And he’s aware that it's not fair of him to ask Alex to stay with him through it. But he thinks that, if he can wake up knowing Alex is safe, that might just fend off the worst of it.

Alex simply nods, before asking, “Do you mind if I…?” he gestures at his right leg.

“Can I help you?” Michael asks softly. He’s well aware that Alex is sore and tired, knows that some of it is his fault. He just wants Alex to not put any more on himself.

Alex nods after a moment, leaning back, hands on the bed behind him as Michael unbuttons his jeans. He’s tempted to do more than just pull them off when Alex lifts his hips, but they’re both too tired for that and, really, he _does_ need to work on some things before he’s ready for this.

If the jeans were his, he’d just toss them on the nearest chair, but, instead, he folds them and sets them neatly to the side, hands moving up the smooth metal until he reaches the top with one hand, pushing the button on the suction valve and sliding his prosthetic off. He can’t resist the urge to kiss Alex’s bare skin right above the sock before he sets the prosthetic to the side.

“How did you-?” Alex asks, voice soft, wondering.

“Youtube,” Michael shrugs, eyes moving to the sock, carefully sliding it down, soothing over Alex’s skin with cold hands, stopping when Alex makes a noise he can’t quite interpret. “Too cold?” he asks.

“No. The opposite. Feels good.”

So Michael just finishes removing the sock before sliding his hands over what’s left of Alex’s calf, soothing over the end of the stump. He presses a kiss to scarred skin, whispering, “I told you. Beautiful.” And it’s true. Alex Manes is the most beautiful person Michael has ever laid eyes on.

He knows what he said, what he should do, but he still wants to nuzzle into the warm skin of Alex’s thighs and follow them up. It’s been too long since he’s tasted him. And he’s never been good at denying himself where Alex is concerned.

“Guerin,” Alex’s tone is firm, so Michael meets his eyes. “Sleep.”

It’s only then that the exhaustion fully hits Michael. He barely manages to stumble out of his clothes and follow Alex into the bed, letting Alex pull him close until his head is resting on Alex’s bicep, his back against Alex’s strong chest. And then he’s sliding into sleep, content in the knowledge that Alex is safe and that he _stayed._

* * *

Isobel has been waiting at The Wild Pony for a while when Maria walks in, somehow managing to look both hungover and as beautiful as always.

“I don’t have time for this, Isobel,” Maria groans instantly. But, otherwise, she seems to ignore Isobel, going about her usual morning rituals.

“I’m sorry for the way I ended things between us. I was scared.”

“Yeah, I know,” Maria replies, surprising her. She doesn’t understand how Maria could possibly know that. But, then again, Maria has always understood her.

“I loved you so much and I wanted to tell you everything. And that scared me.”

Maria finally stops and looks at her, leaning against the pool table, waiting for her to continue.

So Isobel does, “I thought my life would be easier if I made it simple and safe. That’s all I really wanted when I was a kid. To have what my parents have. Something easy and safe. And, you... Maria, you are not safe.” She pauses. “I’m sorry I let my fear ruin what we could have had.”

Maria swipes tears from her eyes.

“But I wanted you to know… I wanted to let you see who I am. Even if that doesn’t really matter now.” She takes Maria in, tries to memorize this woman as she is, before. Before she’s terrified of her. And then she speaks, “I’m a vampire.”

“You’re an idiot,” Maria laughs wetly. “My mother is a witch. And a psychic. You think she didn’t tell me I was in love with a vampire?”

“You _knew_?”

“I figured it was like coming out,” Maria explains. And, actually, that sounds reasonable to Isobel. “You’d tell me when you were ready. And you did. Just took a bit longer than I hoped.” She pauses, before speaking, “I need you to let me let you go, Isobel. You married Noah, but you never really left. You’re always here. Always everywhere. I need to be able to move on.”

It’s Isobel’s turn to wipe the tears from her eyes. But she nods, picking up her purse and heading toward the door.

She steps out into the morning sun, sliding sunglasses on to hide her tears, and stepping into her car. It’s time to let go. And leave the past in the past. Where it belongs.

* * *

Kyle is already at the bunker when Max and Liz reach it. But he’s clearly waited for them before opening it. He just pushes a button on his phone and the panel lights up green.. She can hear the sound of the door unlocking, and reaches down to lift it, Max reaching past her with his damn chivalry. “You do know I’m the Slayer, right?” she asks. “I mean, I could open my own damn door if I were purely human, but I have _super strength_.” Yeah, it’s sweet. But she doesn’t want him thinking it’s okay to treat her like she’s helpless.

“Got it,” he replies, gesturing her to lead the way. So she does.

It’s dark in the bunker, a few emergency lights on, but nothing else. So she takes her phone out and turns on the flashlight, directing it around the room.

She freezes when she sees the same ghostly vision again.

Rosa. Dark hair far longer than it was in life, skin pale like death, mouth open wide.

She’s done being scared by this vision of her sister. She knows what happened to her and it’s time for her to confront it. She steps closer. She’s maybe a foot away when Rosa _lunges._

Max is right there, pushing her out of the way and then he has Rosa’s teeth attached to his throat.

It takes an embarrassingly long time for her to understand what is happening.

Rosa is a vampire. And Jesse Manes has kept her trapped and maybe starving for ten years. _That’s_ how he used her against Jim Valenti.

She jumps when Max’s body crumples to the floor, Rosa watching him, head tilted, examining.

Liz is absolutely certain she’s next, as Rosa stalks toward her.

But her eyes are her normal brown, her face returning to normal, if ten years older, rather than rabid vampire as they had been before. “Liz?”

* * *

Jesse Manes opens his eyes to see the sun dawning and hears the sound of car wheels on gravel. The engine shutting off. Door opened.

He gets to his feet, watching from out of sight as Isobel Evans-Bracken’s handsome husband walks to Max’s door, knocking lightly.

And he considers what he wants to do. Plan A had been reckless. Plan B… Well, he had missed his chance for that and was on to Plan C. His daily dose of vampire blood has served him well. And now Noah Bracken’s surprise reemergence gives him an intriguing new option.

Ten minutes later, he’s in his car, driving away from Roswell for a while, licking the warm metallic taste from his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it... For now. I am working on the sequel, so, if you want to be notified when I start posting it, please subscribe to the series. Thank you for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


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